


Checkmate

by Angstosaur



Series: The Fall-out of Canary Wharf [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Making Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 48
Words: 103,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8402917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstosaur/pseuds/Angstosaur
Summary: This is the third part of a trilogy and the sequel to 'Queen takes knight's pawn'. However, it can be read without reading the other stories first. This story takes place after the events of 'From out of the Rain'. Ianto has been through a rough time and has taken time out to clear his head. However, when Ianto returns to Cardiff he is being watched very closely - and not just by Jack. Before long it seems that there are still some loose ends that need tying up before they bring down Jack and Torchwood 3 once and for all.





	1. Chapter 1

Ianto’s request for leave wasn’t unreasonable. There could be no doubt that he’d earned it and that he needed it. Jack would’ve just been happier if he’d have chosen to stay in Cardiff. Although Jack knew where he’d decided to go and there could be no question about the security of the location, it bothered him that Ianto would choose to spend time there, especially after the way that the ‘night travellers’ had affected him. 

Naturally Gwen had demanded to know where he was, she wanted to visit him, to see how the ‘poor love’ was doing. Her reaction to Jack’s refusal to divulge Ianto’s destination had been predictable, but no less annoying. She’d all but accused him of retconning Ianto and relocating him in another part of the country. He’d later seen her trying to talk Tosh into tracking Ianto’s mobile phone signal. Fortunately, Tosh had already had her conversation with Jack and could at least appreciate Ianto’s desire for a break away from everything for a few days. 

On top of everything else he had been through, the events surrounding the Electro Cinema had proven to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Tosh had seen how much it had hurt Ianto not to have saved more lives, how he had felt responsible for the deaths of the child’s parents, despite Jack’s insistence that he was not to blame. So Tosh had refused point blank to track down Ianto for Gwen, she told her that he deserved a break if he wanted one. However, the fact that Ianto wasn’t answering any calls did bother Tosh, and she knew it upset Jack, but that was Ianto’s business. 

Owen hadn’t beaten about the bush. He’d just bluntly asked Jack what the fuck was going on. This approach was rewarded with a more honest response than the others had achieved. Jack admitted that Ianto had told him that he needed to get his head together and he couldn’t do that while he was worrying about how his every reaction was being closely scrutinised by Jack. Before he’d set off, Ianto had told Jack that he needed to be able to shout and scream at the injustice of the world or to feel sorry for himself and curl up in a ball for hours on end, without feeling guilty about how his reactions were affecting Jack. Although it hurt at the time, Jack understood what he meant and had only made one request, that Ianto call him once a day, just to let him know that he was alright. 

It was nearly eight o’clock, almost time for Ianto’s call. He’d been gone for four days and Jack was missing his company. He felt bereft of the gentle presence that meant so very much to him. He was sitting expectantly at the desk in his office, his hand hovering over the phone, ready to snatch the receiver up as soon as the ringing started. Eight o’clock came and went. No call. After ten minutes, Jack was beginning to grow anxious and by eight thirty he was tempted to break the rules and make the call himself, even though he knew that Ianto’s phone wouldn’t be switched on. 

It was just after nine o’clock when the call finally came through. 

“Ianto?”

_“I can’t speak for long, Jack. There’s been an emergency.”_

“What? Do I need to come over?”

_“No, it’s OK. We’ve got it in hand for now. I just want to be around if they need me later.”_

“Are you alright?”

_“More or less – couple of new bruises and scratches, but nothing serious.”_

“Damn, what happened?”

_“It was the screaming again, upset some of the residents and furniture got thrown about-”_

"And you decided to get in its way?”

_“Not exactly, more a case of not ducking fast enough.”_

“You are OK, though, aren’t you?”

_“Yes, Jack, I’m fine. I needed this. The chance to do some good.”_

“I told you before, you don’t have to make amends-”

_““And like I said then, I need to. Jack?”_

“Ianto?”

_“I’m ready to come back. If you want to meet me tomorrow-”_

“I’ll come out and fetch you. Lunchtime? I’ll bring a picnic.”

_“Would that be cold pizza or cold Chinese takeaway?”_

“How about a thermos of hot soup and some sandwiches?”

_“Sounds great. Jack? You do know that I didn’t come here to get away from you, don’t you?”_

“Yes, I know that.” 

_“Oh bollocks, it’s started again. I have to go. See you tomorrow –”_

“Ianto-” Before he could say anything else he heard the call being terminated at the other end. Sadly, Jack placed the receiver back on the cradle and sunk back into his chair. 

At least he’d be seeing Ianto the next day, which was something to be glad for. He really had missed him, far more than he was prepared to let on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The previous chapter was a prologue. Here's a much longer chapter.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a bright day, chilly and breezy, with large white clouds scudding across the sky. But, at least it didn’t look like rain, which was a good thing, thought Jack as he pulled up the collar of his greatcoat. He would normally have dreaded the journey out to the island, but for a change he had a good incentive to get there. 

The sea was choppy and the keel of the small fishing boat slapped the water almost playfully as it rode the waves. The lighthouse in the distance marked his destination. He’d sent Ianto a text to let him know when he had set off from the harbour, that way he hoped to be met off the boat. 

His hopes were not disappointed, and as the boat pulled up alongside the jetty, he threw out the rope to the lean figure that was standing waiting on the narrow walkway. He recognised him from his posture, for his outfit was not at all familiar, the duffel coat, fisherman’s sweater and thick cords, with well worn walking boots. As for that amount of stubble, he’d be having words about that later.

Jack leapt from the side of the boat to shore and felt his legs wobble in a very ungainly manner as he virtually fell into Ianto’s arms.

“Are you throwing yourself at me, Captain, or are your sea legs really that bad?” Ianto grinned at Jack, bracing him as he gained a steadier footing.

“There’s a good reason I joined the Air Force and not the Navy, you know.”

“Do you feel up to a walk around the cliffs?”

“Sure, why not. But I’ll need to talk with Helen later, before we head back to the mainland.”

“Of course, she’s expecting you.” 

Ianto led the way, and although he didn’t seem very talkative, the way that he reached out for Jack’s hand was reassuring. They headed westwards, watching the seagulls and terns wheel overhead, their wings effortlessly tilting to take advantage of the wind that blew off the sea. 

Wandering off the cliff path, they found a relatively sheltered spot, overlooking the shingle beach and the rocky cliffs that jutted out into the sea. There were nesting colonies of sea birds on the rocks, whose screeching cries echoed around the small bay, combining with the crashing waves to produce a cacophony of sounds that filled the wide skies. Jack was glad of the sound, it meant that this seascape didn’t remind him of the one he’d grown up with. For some reason, he’d been having more frequent dreams of the Boeshane Peninsula coast in the past few months and they always left him unsettled.

Before Ianto could sit down, Jack stopped him and pulled a folded picnic blanket from the depths of the bag he’d been carrying. He was pleased to note Ianto’s approval as he took it from him to spread across the short cropped grass. Whilst he was doing that, Jack carefully unpacked a thermos flask and a large plastic box of sandwiches. 

“I hope those aren’t tuna sandwiches – they’ll kill for a tuna sandwich.” Ianto pointed at the seagulls that were circling above them with beady eyes on the potential free lunch. 

“I hope you’re not suggesting those birds are extraterrestrial.”

“No, don’t be daft. Not the gulls, just the sheep.”

“Really?” Jack raised his eyebrows. 

“Oh yes, these ones on the island are quite aggressive, it wouldn’t do to turn your back on them.” Ianto managed to keep an entirely straight face as he examined the contents of the box that Jack had presented with a flourish.

“What is it about this country and sheep?”

“I do hope that’s not a derogatory comment about the land of my fathers, or I may be forced to restrict your access to the Welsh tongue … so to speak.”

“You wouldn’t dare! You know how much I love what you can do with a mouthful of –”

“So, not tuna then?” Ianto shook the Tupperware box under Jack’s nose to bring him back to the original topic of conversation. 

“No, not tuna – cheese.” Jack grinned and placed the thermos flask onto a flattened rock. “And there’s tomato soup in the flask.”

“I don’t suppose you brought any mugs with you?”

“Yes, in the bag, wrapped in serviettes to stop them chipping against each other. Not the best ones either. There’s some cake as well, if you’re good.” 

“You made these sandwiches yourself, didn’t you?”

“How can you tell?” Jack smiled proudly, he had hoped to please Ianto with his efforts, rather than just picking up something ready packaged from the nearest coffee shop.

“The thickness of the bread and the slabs of cheese – not everyone’s mouth is as big as yours you know!” Ianto lifted up a sandwich that fully deserved the description of doorstep. The granary bread had been sliced by hand and Ianto wondered if Jack had used a machete as he contemplated the irregular angle and the pieces of cheddar inside that were almost as thick. 

“Yeah, but I happen to know exactly what you can get yours around.” The wink that accompanied the smirk wasn’t lost on Ianto, who fought the urge to shake his head in dismay. 

“There you go, overestimating again. Thank you, though – I wasn’t expecting you to actually make the sandwiches-”

“The soup is from cans, before you start getting too worried about me developing domestic tendencies. Tomato with an added teaspoon of chilli powder. Thought you could do with something to warm you up and there’s only so much I expect you’ll allow me to do about that in public.”

“That’s true enough – your idea of sharing body heat is more intimate than the locals tend to see apart from when the rams are in action.”

“See – any excuse to get the conversation back on sheep!” 

“You’ve caught me out there.” Ianto rolled his eyes with mock horror as he broke one of the sandwiches in half. “Promise me you won’t tell Owen. He’d never let me forget it.”

“You’re looking better – how are you feeling?” Jack smiled affectionately at his lover, who despite a bruised cheek, looked and sounded healthier than he had for weeks. 

Ianto didn’t answer immediately, he took his time thoughtfully chewing a mouthful of sandwich whilst looking out across the white-capped waves. The wind ruffled through his hair, that Jack noticed with delight was unkempt and curling around his neck. Although he was tempted to reach over and reclaim his property from the sea breeze, he held back, not wanting to break the spell. 

“It’s done me good, coming out here. I needed to remind myself that we aren’t the same as the original Torchwood Institute and that, thanks to you, we do try to help victims of the Rift and not just exploit whatever finds its way through to us.”

“Good. I won’t say I haven’t missed you, but I’m glad this has helped.”

“It has. Thank you.” 

Jack poured out some of the hot soup and sat quietly watching Ianto sip from his mug. He had come to realise that these little moments had to be savoured before the universe snatched them away without warning.

After gently placing the empty mug back on the rock that they had used as a table, Ianto lay back on the rug to watch the clouds race across the sky. He closed his eyes for a moment and wasn’t surprised to see Jack’s face hovering above him when he opened them again.

“You appear to have some soup on your mouth –” Jack waited for a fraction of a second, as if making sure permission was granted, before swiping the tip of his tongue across the tomato stained lips, and then capturing Ianto’s mouth in a heated kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack and Ianto made their way down towards the entrance to the tunnels that burrowed into the island. Ianto entered the security code into the keypad and stood to one side to let Jack go through first. Helen was waiting for them and greeted Jack with a hug. Ianto kept walking, muttering something about collecting his things from his room.

“Hang on, Ianto –” Jack called out, confused to see Ianto heading towards the residents’ rooms. “That’s not the direction of the staff quarters-” 

“I know,” responded Ianto without elaborating, as he continued to walk past doors with names on small blackboards until he reached one that bore his own name.

Helen reached out to grab hold of Jack’s arm, preventing him from following Ianto.

“I thought he was staying in one of the spare staff rooms-” Jack muttered belligerently, ready to pick a fight with someone. He was annoyed that Ianto had apparently been roomed in the more depressing area of the shelter.

“Before you start making a fuss, he insisted on staying there,” Helen explained. “It’s the same room he chose to stay in when he came to visit when you were away that time. He said it made him more aware of the needs of the residents.”

“What am I going to do with him?” Jack sighed, rubbing his face with something resembling exasperation. 

He had just witnessed yet another insight into Ianto’s self-sacrificing disposition that made him appreciate him even more, if that was possible. Jack knew that with his own hedonistic tendencies, it would never occur to him to consciously choose comfortable quarters if given a choice. His bunker at the Hub was a necessity, not a choice. Jack also felt a twinge of guilt hearing that Ianto had taken refuge here when he’d abandoned him to run off with the Doctor. Although he knew that Ianto had taken over his responsibilities at Flat Holm, he hadn’t realised that he had stayed over in one of those dreary rooms. Being honest with himself, Jack realised that he just hadn’t thought.

“How’s he been?” Jack sighed as he asked a question that he knew Ianto wouldn’t answer truthfully.

“Brilliant. As usual. He sorted out the water pressure problem, so the showers are working wonderfully now. He also reorganised the storage area so that we can find where everything is now, not that we couldn’t have done it ourselves, but we never have the time. He’s very popular with some of the young women here and some of those that aren’t so young any more. He reads to them.”

Jack winced as he recalled Helen having requested help with a plumbing problem a few weeks back. Unfortunately, they’d been far too busy for him to make the time to sort that out for her. However, he could well imagine just how popular Ianto would be, with his quiet efficiency and nurturing nature. 

“What does he read to them?”

“The classics, Jane Austen and the like, stories far removed from whatever their lives were before they were…damaged.” Helen paused to look Jack in the eye. “They seem to like it. Although they never seem to recall what Ianto was reading to them after he leaves their rooms. But they’re always calmer and more passive afterwards.” 

“I’ll have to get him to read to me when I get him home,” smiled Jack, imagining being read a bedtime story by Ianto. “Although come to think of it, I can see how his voice could have that effect.” 

“Jack, please tell me you’re not replacing him,” blurted out Helen, as if desperately seeking reassurance. “Because we’d hate to lose him. I can’t imagine anyone else being so good with the residents and-”

“No! Never. What makes you think that?” Jack had snapped out of his dreamy reverie and was alarmed by Helen’s words. The thought of replacing Ianto was anathema to him, in more ways than one.

“He’s been making lists-”

“He’s always making lists,” interrupted Jack, not understanding what Helen was getting at.

“Not like these. Fully detailed descriptions of what must be done on a regular basis. Everything from requisition schedules to maintenance timetables. Basically, everything that he took over when you were out of the country that time.”

Jack recalled that when he had returned with the Doctor that he had been relieved to discover that Ianto had automatically taken on all his responsibilities for the Rift victims housed on Flat Holm Island. 

“I was under the impression that he was getting ready to hand over the job to someone else.”

“No, Helen, as far as I’m concerned he’s not going anywhere. But trust me, I shall talk to him about this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack waited until they were on the return boat journey before questioning Ianto. He figured that it would mean that Ianto couldn’t avoid answering him, not without jumping overboard, and Jack didn’t think Ianto would resort to that. 

He couldn’t help but notice that the weather was mimicking his moods. The sky was growing darker as they headed back towards Cardiff, the white fluffy clouds of earlier that day had given way to an unbroken, dark grey, blanket of cloud. 

“Is there something you want to talk to me about, Ianto?” Jack huddled into his coat as he gripped the railing at the back of the boat.

“Is there something in particular you want to know?” asked Ianto warily, wondering what Helen had said to Jack, because his cheerful mood had dampened by the time Ianto had collected his belongings and returned to bid Helen farewell.

“Maybe something to do with you making plans for someone else to take on your tasks at the island. I thought you were happy doing this. If you weren’t you should have spoken to me about it first.”

“It’s not like that!” Ianto retorted, irritated with Jack’s disgruntled attitude. “I love helping Helen and the others as much as I can-”

“Then tell me what it is like, because I’m not sure I like the sound of it!”

“If you must know, it struck me that should anything happen to me, there needs to be a back-up plan so that whoever takes over knows what has to be done.”

“What the hell makes you think something’s going to happen to you?” demanded Jack, furious that his suspicions were proving true.

“Jack – face facts! Since we’ve been back from the Beacons, I’ve had two near misses. I should be dead by now - if there had been a bullet in the chamber when that idiot in the warehouse pulled that trigger. If that bloody night traveller had been an inch closer –”

Jack grabbed hold of Ianto fiercely as if the action alone would erase those raw memories that threatened to overwhelm him. Ianto allowed Jack to clasp him to his chest and held on tight as he breached a topic that he suspected would upset Jack even more.

“It’s not just that. It also occurred to me that as soon as the Doctor turns up again and calls for you, you’re going to be off-”

“What makes you think that?” Jack pushed away, distraught that Ianto could possibly suggest that he would abandon them all once again.

“Come on Jack, we’re not stupid. We all heard the way you and Martha talked about him when she was in Wales. Your mutual adoration for a particular Time Lord was difficult to miss,” Ianto laughed half-heartedly. “You two have such bad crushes, you know. Anyway, I could tell you were disappointed that he never asked for your help with the ATMOS devices and the Sontarans, instead spending time with Martha and UNIT. I understand why you initiated a full lock down of the Hub, but the reason you kept snapping at all of us, well it makes sense when I look back on it now.”

“Ianto! It’s complicated-” Jack realised, looking back, just how his behaviour would have looked to the rest of his team.

“It’s OK, I understand,” sighed Ianto. “I just wanted to make sure that no one on Flat Holm would suffer if both of us were out of the picture.” 

“You really think I’d just get up and leave again,” asked Jack, taken aback by Ianto’s admission, his lack of faith in him. “Now? After everything-”

“Yes,” asserted Ianto. “If he said he needed you. Yes, I do.”

“Well I’m telling you now, I’m not going anywhere soon and neither are you. Make those damn plans if it makes you happy, but trust me, nobody’s going to need them for a long time yet.” 

Despite the conviction he placed in his words, Jack couldn’t help but feel a nagging doubt at the back of his mind. It wasn’t the first time that it occurred to him that Ianto was wise beyond his years. As they both stood, gazing back at the island that was slipping behind the waves behind them, Jack reached out and pulled Ianto close to him, glad that there was no resistance to his less than gentle grip. He should have known that Ianto would be so damn practical, to make plans for the eventuality of his own death, something that Jack couldn’t contemplate without shuddering. 

Jack shivered. The wind had changed direction, now coming from the north, it was bitterly cold as it stung their ears and whistled through their hair. Jack had never liked sudden changes in the weather. When he was growing up, an unexpected shift in the wind direction was regarded as a bad omen. That belief had stuck with him.


	3. Chapter 3

Although Jack was pleased that Ianto was no longer miles away from him, in the middle of the Bristol Channel, he now had to contend with the ever-present fear of him being watched. The threatening postcard put through Ianto’s letter box, mocked up to look like an invitation to a chess club, was proof positive that the men who had disappeared from Torchwood One, in the days surrounding the events of the Battle of Canary Wharf, still had their sights set on Ianto. 

Jack wasn’t convinced that he’d done the right thing is keeping it a secret, but as Ianto was unaware of the taunts that had been made about him being Jack’s pawn, he saw no point in explaining why he’d interpreted the postcard as a threat. He also had no desire to set back the progress Ianto had made. 

Whilst Ianto had been away, Jack had decided to confide in Tosh. Naturally she asked to see the postcard to see if she could run any traces on it, only to have to give Jack a look of deep disappointment when he confessed to having thrown it on the fire in a pique of rage. At Jack’s request, she had set up some low-level surveillance equipment in Ianto’s house, her concerns for invading her friend’s privacy overwhelmed by her protective instincts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On their return to Cardiff, Jack threw Ianto’s rucksack into the back of the SUV, next to his own overnight bag. 

“Jack?” asked Ianto quizzically, recognising the small holdall and what it signified.

“Thought I’d stay over at yours tonight.” Jack grinned, hoping Ianto wouldn’t catch on that he didn’t want him to be in the house alone. 

“Jack – thanks for the offer, but I really need to go home to sleep tonight,” Ianto insisted as he opened the passenger door. “Much as I adore your company, your idea of what constitutes a good night’s rest is a normal person’s idea of a full physical workout.” 

“I can do sleep –” Jack inadvertently managed to make it sound like an arduous challenge that he was more than capable of, which undermined his argument totally.

“No, Jack. What you do counts as recuperation ready for the next session.” Ianto smiled fondly at Jack as he fastened his seat belt. “I was thinking of more than an hour at a time. Maybe even several consecutive hours without being woken up.” 

“Come on, it’s early yet-” Jack wheedled as best he could, although he was now beginning to feel guilty about not letting Ianto sleep properly. 

“Jack, it’s been a while since I’ve spent the night at home alone. I’ll be fine – I promise. I won’t do anything daft. I’ve no intentions of drinking myself into a stupor and I’ll remember to eat. What is this really about? Surely you’re not that frustrated?”

“I’ve just been worried about you, after what you’ve been through recently.” Jack didn’t want to say more, hoping that Ianto would just accept the fact that he was concerned about him.

“I’m not the only one that’s had a rough time this year,” stated Ianto as he looked out of the side window. He took a deep breath before turning back to look at Jack. “Gwen got impregnated by an alien that wanted to rip her open. Her wedding was wrecked, and apart from us and Rhys she’s the only person to remember it at all. Tosh helped send the man she’d fallen in love with back in time to face a firing squad. As for Owen, he was shot dead for fuck’s sake! So why do I qualify for the exclusive Harkness protection treatment?”

“Do you really need to me to answer that?” Jack snapped. 

“Compared to what they’ve been through I don’t think I’ve had it so bad –” replied Ianto, holding on to the dashboard to steady himself as Jack slammed his foot down on the pedal to beat the red lights.

“Ianto – stop being so damn thick-headed,” Jack gripped hard on the steering wheel as he took a corner more sharply than was necessary. “Would you be happier if I set up a rota for spending the night with every member of the team?”

“I think Rhys may have problems with that,” deadpanned Ianto. “Mind you Gwen may actually agree to using retcon on him if you did. You may also find Owen less than receptive to your charms –”

“Now you’re just being facetious!” 

“Oh, sorry – are you saying you weren’t being serious?”

“No! Only you get the special attention.” 

The rest of the journey was completed in silence, neither man wanting to speak any further on the matter. Eventually, when they reached Ianto's street, Jack pulled up onto the kerb, not wanting to block road with the bulky SUV. He turned to Ianto and made one last bid with a broad grin and a single word. 

“Coffee?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because coffee is never enough for you!” Ianto exclaimed, rolling his eyes in despair.

Ianto felt that Jack was doing his utmost to break his resolve, but he really did need some time alone before facing everyone else the next morning. He just didn’t want Jack to know how nervous he was. Jack would never be able to understand that Ianto needed to return to work under his own steam, not having been brought in by the boss, or even worse, crawling out from the sleeping quarters under Jack’s office. 

“Are we OK?” Jack reached out to take Ianto’s hand, hoping that he hadn’t upset him.

“Yes, Jack. We’re OK.” Ianto released his seat belt and leaned over to gently kiss Jack on the mouth before he could say another word. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll even fetch breakfast for you.”

“You don’t have to-” 

“Don’t sulk, it won’t work.” Ianto pressed a finger to the pouting lips and shook his head.

“OK, you win. Pain au chocolat?” 

“I’ll see what I can do.” With one last smile at Jack, Ianto pushed open the passenger door, grabbed his rucksack from the back seat and strode purposefully towards his front door. 

Jack waited until he could see that the lights had been switched on before he drove off. Although he wished that he could have spent the night with Ianto, he respected the needs of the other man. Ianto had been through a traumatic time and the damage was still there, just beneath the surface, barely healed over. Much as Jack wanted to wrap him up and make everything better, he knew from personal experience that he had to let the Ianto tend his wounds in private if he was to ever come to terms with all he’d been through. Reluctantly and with a heavy heart, Jack returned to the Hub alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following morning, Jack wasn’t surprised that Ianto was the first person to arrive or that he was carrying a box full of warm pastries.

Jack stood on the balcony outside his office admiring the view as Ianto smiled up at him. He was wearing a particularly fine suit, dark charcoal in colour, with matching waistcoat, a crisp white shirt and a dark grey silk tie, diagonally striped with bands of pale grey and silver. Not especially colourful, no pinks, reds or blues – all of which indicated that Ianto was in a contemplative mood, which Jack had expected. 

“Can I get that coffee now?” Jack pleaded, pressing his hands together.

“Yes, I’ll go put it on. Sir,” Ianto replied with a wink.

Jack grinned and retreated to his office hoping to have some time to himself with Ianto, a mug of steaming hot coffee and a flaky pastry before anyone else arrived. Unfortunately, the grating of the cog wheel announced the end of that particular fantasy. He spun on his heel in time to see Gwen dashing up towards the kitchenette area and flinging her arms about Ianto from behind, almost causing a major coffee calamity. 

Jack glanced at his watch and wondered how long it would take for Gwen to start probing to find out where Ianto had been for the past few days. It took less than two minutes. 

“So, Ianto, where have you been? Jack wouldn’t say, but I hope you got away somewhere nice. You’re still looking a bit pale, so probably not anywhere sunny by the looks of things. Mind you, I don’t see you as much of a sun worshipper to be honest. So, come on then, spill, where did you disappear to?”

Jack watched with growing curiosity as Ianto placed a hand on Gwen’s waist and drew her close enough so that he could whisper in her ear, his lips grazing her ear lobe as he spoke. He observed Gwen’s reactions, from the startled, yet pleased smile to begin with and then to the way her eyebrows shot up in perfect arches and her mouth fell open. Whatever Ianto had said, he’d shocked her. Then she pulled away and slapped his arm. 

“Oh, Ianto! You’re worse than Jack!” Gwen stormed off, not seeing the smile that graced Ianto’s lips as he looked up to Jack.

When Ianto eventually brought a tray of re-heated pain au chocolat and freshly brewed coffee into Jack’s office, he closed the door behind him.

“What did you tell her?” Jack bit into the pastry, flakes cascading down the front of his shirt.

“Only that I would love to tell her exactly where I’d been and what I’d been doing, but then I’d have to kill her.”

Jack spluttered, causing the area of pastry crumbs surrounding him to spread out even further. 

“She won’t give up you know.”

“I know.”

Jack took a long draft of his coffee, not caring about the heat, just relishing the flavours that filled his mouth, mingling with the molten dark chocolate. 

“Jack – there’s something I need to ask you about.” Ianto’s face had lost its playful expression and was now very serious.

 _‘Shit’,_ thought Jack, _‘he’s found the cameras’._

“I found this on my kitchen table. Any idea how it got there?”

Ianto then reached into a pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out an ivory coloured object. He reached across Jack's desk and placed it on the blotter, in an area clear of pastry flakes.

Jack looked in horror at the exquisitely carved chess piece that Ianto had presented him with.

It was a pawn.


	4. Chapter 4

“Jack? I’d like an answer please.”

“It looks like a chess piece to me.” Jack put a hand to his mouth hoping to hide his reaction and tried his best to sound as non-committal as possible.

“I can see that – I’d like to know how it came to be in my kitchen.” Ianto caught Jack’s eyes and immediately saw the horror that lay there. “And unless you’ve suddenly developed a phobia for board games, this means something to you, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“For a start you’ve got a face on you that wouldn’t look amiss if I’d just put a large ticking bomb on your desk.”

It was one thing hiding the truth from Ianto, but telling him a lie, to his face, that was a completely different matter. It just wasn’t worth it. Although it wasn’t technically impossible, the fallout would be horrendous. There was no disguising the fact that the small piece of plastic had triggered a fear deep within him.

“Yes, I do,” Jack admitted. “But I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

After prompting Ianto to take a seat opposite him, Jack described his ‘interview’ with Gates, the renegade scientist from Torchwood One. He explained that Gates had made digs about Ianto being his pawn. He then confessed to his suspicions that the postcard Ianto had received, inviting him to join a chess club, was probably linked to threats made by Gates.

Ianto rested his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands, not sure whether he should be pissed off with Jack for keeping him in the dark or terrified that he was still living in the nightmare he thought he’d escaped from.

“Jack – they got inside my home!” he looked up suddenly, unable to mask the shock that their enemy had been inside his house. “How the hell did they do that?” 

“That’s what I intend to find out.” Jack’s face mirrored Ianto’s, as it dawned on him that they could have been inside waiting after he’d dropped him off the previous evening. He swore to himself that he wasn’t letting Ianto return to his house alone, not now. 

“Shit – I don’t suppose that could be anything other than a chess piece, could it?”

“Until we’re certain, nobody touches it. I’ll get Tosh to scan it as soon as she comes in.” 

Jack knew it made sense to take precautions, but he very much doubted it was anything other than what it appeared to be. Its purpose had been achieved, there was no need for it to be anything other than an innocuous chess piece.

“It’s OK,” Ianto got up and walked to the door. “I’ll go fetch a scanner from Owen’s bench, check there’s nothing harmful on the surface of that thing.” 

Jack realised that it was probably a futile exercise, but it would give Ianto something to do. He sat back in his chair gazing at the pawn, seeing it for the threat it represented. Turning to his computer, he pointed at the chess piece and began to speak, not realising, until it was too late, that Ianto had not yet left the room, having paused to pick up his empty coffee mug. 

“Someone dropped you off, let’s see if my candid camera-”

“What?” Ianto stopped in the doorway, turned and narrowed his eyes as he fixed Jack with what could only be described as a dangerous stare. 

“Oh shit… yes, that.” Jack chewed his lip nervously and swallowed hard. “I was going to tell you about that – I had Tosh set up some cameras.”

“When were you going to mention this to me?” Ianto’s voice was calm, too calm. 

“I’m sorry. If you’d have let me in last night, I would’ve told you then – but it just slipped my mind…” Jack trailed off before he dug himself an even bigger hole than the one he was already up to his neck in.

Ianto had his hands on his hips and was taking deep breaths, never a good sign. 

“I don’t know what’s worse, having my friends spy on me, or ex –colleagues breaking into my home and leaving cryptic bloody threats! What the fuck did you think you were doing? How many cameras? Where are they? In the bathroom? Bedroom? Bloody hell, it’s just as well I didn’t let you come in last night!” 

Jack could detect the hint of hysteria rising through the anger in Ianto’s voice and got up from his desk to stand next to him, willing to take whatever flak got thrown at him. He had to admit that it didn’t look too good and knowing how Ianto felt about his own space, this was doubly bad.

“Come here, please?” He took hold of Ianto’s arms to pull him closer. “I made Tosh set up the cameras because I was worried and it looks like I had good cause to be concerned. There aren’t any cameras inside your house, just monitoring the front and back. Forgive me?” 

Jack pulled Ianto into a hug and felt him gradually relax into his arms.

“Forgive you? No, not yet.” Ianto was livid, he couldn’t believe that Jack would do this without talking to him about it first. “I can see why you decided to do it, but you could and should have discussed it with me! I’m not a child, Jack!”

“You’re right, as always. Shit, I keep screwing this up, don’t I?” 

“Oh, Jack. Between you and Gwen you could wipe out half of Wales with good intentions and doing what you think is best for the rest of us mere mortals. I’m not sure whether to deny you access to my coffee or my body right now, maybe both -”

“No!” 

“Are you begging?” 

“Would that help?”

“Oh yeah – really. Let’s hear it. Loud enough for Gwen to hear too.”

“I am sorry that I had Tosh put surveillance cameras on your house without asking you first!” Jack yelled out, watching as Gwen spun around in her seat to hear what he was shouting. “Will that do?”

Ianto nodded and sat down on the sofa. It occurred to him that he was directing his anger at the wrong person.

“You know what? The fact that you did it because you were worried about me is quite touching really. You actually do care, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, you idiot!” Jack could hardly believe what he was hearing. “I … I care about you a hell of a lot. Don’t go forgetting that.”

Jack sat next to Ianto on the sofa. He should have known that there was no way he could have got away with setting up CCTV on Ianto without telling him, or even asking him first. He rested his forehead on the other man’s and leaned in closer, hoping that Ianto would allow himself to be kissed. 

“You’re the idiot, Jack, not me. But I appreciate that you cared, thank you …for caring. You know I…well, you know.” Ianto slipped an arm around Jack’s waist and tilted his head so that as he was close enough to inhale the anxious breaths that Jack breathed out.

“Yeah.” Jack didn’t waste the opportunity he was being offered for forgiveness.

Fortunately, their lips and tongues proved to be far more proficient at non-verbal communication, and before long neither man was in any doubt as to how the other felt. As an outlet for fears, forgiveness, apologies and declarations of ‘caring’ it was hard to beat. Reluctantly, Jack broke away from the kiss first, but didn’t release Ianto from his arms. The thought of those people getting that close to Ianto scared him. 

“Let’s see if Tosh is in yet and then we’re discussing this with the others. OK?”

“Do we have to?” Ianto murmured into Jack’s shoulder, almost wishing he was still on Flat Holm.

“Yes. Apart from anything else I’m not sure any of you are safe right now. We need to be extra vigilant until we find out who’s behind this and what they want. And for the record, you’re not going home without me until these bastards are all locked up or dead.”


	5. Chapter 5

Gwen shook her head after hearing Jack’s bellowed apology and cursed his stupidity as soon as she figured out what he’d done. But she wondered what had prompted him to set up surveillance on Ianto’s house. Her curiosity didn’t take long to get the better of her and she quickly made her way up the stairs to Jack’s office, more than ready to demand to know what the hell he was up to. 

Whatever she’d been expecting to see as she stared through the window, it certainly hadn’t been the sight of the two men in each other’s arms. She smiled to herself and walked quietly away, pleased to have detected a shift in the balance of power in their relationship and one in the right direction. However, she would definitely be asking Tosh about the cameras as soon as she got in.

When Tosh did arrive, Gwen didn’t have the chance to question her before she was summoned to Jack’s office, pre-empting any opportunity Gwen may have had of finding out what was going on. She frowned as she watched Tosh ascend the stairs, throwing an apologetic look over her shoulder, mouthing the word ‘later’ as she shrugged and hurried as Jack called out her name a second time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack was looking more than slightly contrite when Tosh entered the office and it didn’t take long to find out why. Despite Ianto’s assurances that he didn’t blame her in the least and that he knew just how persuasive Jack could be, Tosh still apologised profusely. She was relieved that Jack had told him about the cameras, she hadn’t been looking forward to facing Ianto while keeping such a secret from him. 

However, Tosh had no more luck than Jack had when looking through the downloads received from the cameras, there was an inexplicable gap in transmission of approximately ten minutes from the previous day. Someone had skilfully detected the cameras, or seen them being installed and had blocked the feed for the time it had taken to break into Ianto’s house and leave the pawn on his kitchen table. 

Tosh was compelled to agree with the conclusion that the other two had already come to, which was that they had no idea who it had been or how they had got in. The fact that Ianto had detected no sign of forced entry, led them to the uncomfortable fact that someone either had a key or the means to get in and out of his house whenever they wanted to. That meant that they could have got to Ianto any time after he had been dropped off the day before, a chilling truth that gnawed at the pit of Jack’s stomach making him feel decidedly unwell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack called the team together in the boardroom to brief them on the latest developments. Tosh and Ianto sat together on one side of the long table, whilst Gwen and Owen sat across from them. There was no coffee for anyone, even though Jack had meekly requested it, the glare he received made it clear that if he asked again he’d be drinking a mug of Ianto’s special reserve instant decaffeinated blend. Not wanting to risk the wrath of Ianto further, Jack dropped the idea although he really hoped he could earn the other man’s forgiveness before the day was through. 

With nothing else to occupy him, Ianto kept fidgeting with the chess piece, which he could tell was irritating Jack, but he wasn’t prepared to look up to see the pity he knew would be emanating from Gwen and he didn’t even want to contemplate what Owen’s reaction would be. To say he was ill at ease would have been a severe understatement; this was the last thing he had needed when he came back into work. Ianto had wanted to slip unobtrusively back into his role with as little fuss as possible. As there was absolutely no chance of that happening, he focused his attention on the small piece of bleached wood and how smooth it felt as he half listened to Jack tell the others about the threats made by Gates and what the pawn may represent. 

“Where is Gates being held? I don’t suppose we could ask him what’s going on.” Gwen asked Jack, causing him to bite back a sarcastic retort, for an ex-policewoman she was far too willing to believe that criminals would happily volunteer the truth if asked.

“Hopefully he’s enjoying the facilities that UNIT have at their disposal.” Jack really hoped that was the case and he would check that it was as soon as he could. “I doubt if he’d be willing to tell us anything. He wasn’t exactly forthcoming last time I saw him.” 

“Do we actually know which bastards we got and which ones are still at large?” asked Owen, blunt and to the point. Jack appreciated the succinctness of his question. 

Until they had uncovered the pit of vipers that Gates had gathered together to work with him, it had been widely assumed that those who had gone missing at the Battle of Canary Wharf, but whose bodies had not been found afterwards, had been taken into the Void. However, it had since transpired that there was a core of employees of Torchwood London, fiercely loyal to Yvonne Hartman and dedicated to upholding the original statutes of the organisation. This group had endeavoured to set up an underground group set on removing Jack as leader of the Torchwood Institute. They had not only developed genetically engineered alien-human hybrid viruses, but also sequestered a large store of alien weaponry. Jack’s team had successfully disclosed these activities and put a halt to them, but the threats that Ianto had received suggested that there were still others whose plans they had yet to discover. The fact that these threats appeared to be specifically directed at Ianto frightened Jack more than he was willing to admit. 

“Well, Tosh – what progress have you made on the lists you were drawing up with the guys from UNIT?”

Tosh turned to face Jack and brushed her hair from her face as she took a deep breath. 

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I’ve been discussing this with the tech experts at UNIT who’ve had the opportunity to ask the Doctor himself about the fate of the people at Canary Wharf. Someone asked him what it would have been like for the poor souls that were sucked into the Void. Apparently, he nearly snapped the man’s head off before explaining that, unless an object or person was contaminated with something called Void stuff, they wouldn’t have been drawn into the Void. That included the Cybermen that came across in what Yvonne called the ghost shifts and the Daleks, but not anyone from Torchwood One.”

“So – we should have been able to account for all of the Torchwood employees on site that day.” Jack looked directly at Ianto. “They would have been survivors… victims of deletion or extermination, or… ”

“Converted.” Ianto put the chess piece down and looked directly at Jack as he solemnly finished the other man’s sentence for him. 

The others respected the silence that followed, as the two men exchanged looks that spoke volumes. The wounds left by the events of that fateful day were deep and seemed resistant to healing, especially when circumstances continually conspired to reopen the scars and pour salt in them. The pain in Ianto’s eyes bore testimony to just how much they hurt. Tosh waited for Jack to gently nod in her direction before she continued.

“Exactly. We know from DNA samples exactly who was deleted, exterminated or … converted… and we have a record of the survivors. Anyone not on those lists or on the one compiled by UNIT of the people that were in the caves during the raids is potentially out there and working for the rogue organisation. I’ve been working on accessing the corrupted data base to get a full list of employees.”

“I need that list, finalised and on my desk by lunchtime at the latest. Tosh, you and Owen can work on that – it takes priority. Then we need to start hunting them down one by one, before they get to us first. Is that clear?”

“What about me?” asked Ianto.

“I’m taking you and Gwen out to your house. Let’s see if between us we can’t find some evidence of the intruders.” Jack reached out to clasp Ianto’s hand across the table. “You OK with that?”

“Yes, thanks.” Ianto was grateful that Jack hadn’t suggested checking out his house without him, or worse still making him stay behind in the Hub for safety.

Unfortunately, before any of them could pursue their allotted tasks, the rift alarm went off. Naturally this was always a possibility, but it took them by surprise, especially as Tosh’s rift activity predictor had determined that it was likely to remain quiet for at least the next few days. Tosh pulled up the display in the boardroom, which indicated a sharp peak centred very close to where they sat.

“What the hell is that, Tosh?” Jack demanded. 

“I don’t understand. It’s a massive spike of activity – out in the middle of the Bay!”


	6. Chapter 6

“In the Bay?” asked Jack, nonplussed. “You sure about that, Tosh?”

All eyes were on Tosh as she double-checked her figures and calculations, her hair falling into her eyes as she focused on the screen of her laptop.

“Yes, but this wasn’t like the usual rift activity. It seemed to be a sudden burst and then it just fizzled out.” 

The jagged line on her display was so atypical that there were no matching outputs to compare it with. Jack spun around and pointed at Gwen.

“Gwen, I want you to get on the phone to the Harbour Authority, see if they’ve had any reports that’d cause them to send out the coast guard. If they have – get them to wait for you. I want you and Owen on the boat. Got it?”

“Yes, Jack – I’m on it.” Gwen didn’t hesitate to follow out Jack’s orders, they were straightforward and logical. 

“Owen – prepare a medical kit and grab a bottle of Retcon whilst you’re at it.”

“Oh joy, aliens in the bay in broad daylight. Just what we fucking need,” Owen grumbled as he pushed his chair back and left the room.

“Tosh – see what further analysis of that rift spike can show.” Jack leaned over Tosh’s shoulder, he was as puzzled by the read-out as she was. “I thought you’d said the other day that we weren’t in for any activity for a while. That’s why I let Ianto have time off and why I took a day out yesterday.”

“Yes, Jack, I know. The rift predictor programme has never got it this wrong before.” Tosh was frowning – she couldn’t figure out what was going on and that bothered her. “There may be minor fluctuations in activity – but never something this major.” 

Tosh shook her head trying to get to grips with the anomalous readings she was still getting.

“Perhaps it’s been opened from somewhere else?” suggested Ianto. “Like when we opened it and let Abaddon through, maybe the other end isn’t drifting about in space as freely as you said, maybe there’s another planet where aliens have a rift machine like ours …”

Ianto let the sentence trail off as he looked up to see Jack looking at him fondly, his head tilted to one side. He then realised how foolish he probably sounded to Jack who’d actually travelled across time and space. 

“Sorry, I’m talking a load of bollocks aren’t I?”

“No,” Jack spared Ianto an indulgent smile and squeezed his arm in encouragement. “Not complete bollocks. I did once describe the rift as a wormhole fixed at one end here, with the other end floating about in space letting all sorts of flotsam and jetsam fall through. But it’s quite possible that there are fixed points elsewhere, other planets where it’s anchored –”

“Like the places the people at Flat Holm went to?” Ianto whispered, even though the others were busily occupied, he didn’t want to risk being overheard. 

“Yes. That’s possibly where they’ve been.” Jack was glad that he had taken Ianto into his confidence about Flat Holm, he was glad that he had someone to share the horrors with.

Ianto nodded his head slowly. He had heard stories first-hand from those who had travelled through the Rift and none of them had come through unscathed by the experience. If the Rift was being opened by creatures from those worlds it wasn’t good news at all. But it occurred to him that there was another example of the Rift being used by external forces.

“Tell me, how did John Hart figure out how to home in on the Rift energy to come pay you a visit? And how the hell did he know you’d just got back?”

Jack smiled broadly at Ianto’s refusal to address the rogue Time Agent as a Captain and he could still detect the slightest hint of jealousy, which he found endearing. 

“It’s all in the wrist strap, he can locate me in time and space.” Jack held out his arm to expose the worn, brown leather strap. “It’s also equipped with functional technology to detect the temporal energy surge associated with our Rift. All he had to do was use his vortex manipulator to travel through it.”

“If he’s behind any of this I shall be seriously pissed off.” Ianto rolled his eyes, he didn’t care what Jack had said since that night, he didn’t trust John Hart and never would.

“Me too. I made it clear that I never wanted to see him again.”

“Oh yes, that was totally convincing,” Ianto responded, a smirk on his face. “That goodbye snog was so final-”

“Ianto!” Jack had thought he’d explained that, but if Ianto’s expression was anything to go by, he’d not done as good a job as he thought he had. 

“No, seriously-” 

Before any further discussion of the possibility of John Hart being behind the strange activity of the Rift, Gwen called out, ready to brief Jack on her discussions with the Cardiff Harbour Authority. For once in his life, Jack was grateful for her interruption. 

“There’ve been reports of something splashing about in the water, suspected man overboard situation. Someone set off a flare and the coastguard are already on their way to the co-ordinates, which Tosh says match the ones she has for the epicentre of activity.”

“Damn – OK, Gwen. We’re going to have to get out there and make sure no-one gets exposed to anything they shouldn’t.” Jack dashed out of the boardroom leading the way. “Now!”

“Owen’s ready to go,” called out Gwen as she followed Jack. “And Tosh said she’d stay here and co-ordinate.”

“Good. Come on, Ianto!” Jack turned to see that the other man was holding back, as if uncertain. “There’s no time to waste.”

“Of course, sir, I’ll get your coat.” Ianto dashed off to grab his own coat as well as Jack’s before meeting the team on the lift platform. He held out the greatcoat so Jack could slide his arms into the sleeves as the lift ascended to the surface of the Plass.

Jack led the way to the quayside, his coattails sweeping behind him, Gwen striding purposefully in her black boots trying hard to keep up with him. Owen and Ianto meanwhile shared a look as they split up the equipment and monitors between them. They didn’t need to say a word to know that they were both thinking that Jack and Gwen seemed oblivious to the necessity of something, other than force of personality, to deal with any possible alien encounter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time they reached the site, there were boats of all shapes and sizes milling around, all with people on decks clad in waterproofs and life-jackets anxiously looking into the water. Jack swore under his breath as the scale of any cover up was escalating with the arrival of each new craft that made its way across the Bay to see what was going on. Unlike incidents on land, it wasn’t possible to cordon off an area of open water or to set up screens to keep out unwanted attention. 

“Nothing’s been found yet – but someone caught a large splash using the camera on their mobile.” Gwen was on her phone and gesturing towards the first lifeboat that had reached the scene. “They’re checking with all the boats in the harbour, making sure no-one is missing any crew. So far, all are accounted for. Rumours now say it was a dolphin jumping out of the water.”

“If it was an alien, it’s probably drowned by now.” Ianto shivered slightly, memories of being immersed in ice cold water still fresh in his mind.

“Unless it’s aquatic, or amphibious, like that space whale.” Owen’s speculation didn’t make any of them feel any better, as they all leaned on the railings looking over the side at the dark murky waters.

Jack was frustrated. His gut feeling was that something had come through, but there was nothing to be seen and far too many witnesses for them to do anything. He could see that there were police divers preparing to go in the water from the coastguard vessel, not that they’d be able to find anything if Owen was right. Jack was also annoyed that this had delayed the investigations they were getting ready to pursue. He had no option but to split the team up to deal with both situations. 

“Gwen and Owen – I want you two to transfer onto the other boat and stay out here, in case they bring anything up. Get hold of any video of what happened and as many eye witness accounts as you can. I’m taking Ianto back to his place – we’ve got work to do.”

Gwen nodded, knowing what he was referring to. She would have liked to have lent her police experience in dealing with break-ins, but understood that someone had to stay on site. She was flattered that Jack trusted her with it.

“And make sure the emergency services let us know if anything odd washes up any where in the area. Like Ianto said, we may well have a dead alien out there somewhere.”

“Poor thing,” said Gwen sadly. “Imagine that, falling all those millions of miles through that Rift and then ending up dead in Cardiff Bay.” 

Jack looked over Gwen’s head towards Ianto, knowing exactly what was going through his mind. If only she knew it happened both ways.

“Yeah, either that or it’s a fucking great big space shark that’s going to eat whole fishing boats and cause bloody mayhem in the days to come.” Owen held his hand up in front of his face and opened and closed it as if it was a shark’s mouth and he was imagining it engulfing the boats surrounding them. 

“Owen, you’ve been watching too many crappy films since you stopped sleeping.” Ianto said, shaking his head in despair. He could just picture the type of movie that Owen had been renting. “I'll let you borrow some of my collection of classics, now there's no risk of you spilling beer on them.”

"You don’t know what you’ve been missing, Ianto. I’ll have you know that Shark Attack 3 is a classic!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't seen Shark Attack 3, you have missed out on one of the cringiest lines ever spoken by John Barrowman on screen.


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as the boat had dropped them off at the quayside they had headed straight for the SUV. Whilst waiting for Ianto to fasten his seat belt, Jack glanced around the underground car park, confused.

“Ianto? Where’s your car?” 

“I don’t have one at the moment. Don’t you remember the Audi got written off out on the Gower?” Ianto shook his head, wondering sometimes if Jack suffered from attention deficit disorder. 

“I said I’d put a claim in on the insurance to get you a new one didn’t I?”

“Yep, it’s been in your in-tray for the last two weeks awaiting your signature, sir.” 

The tight-lipped smile told Jack that he had screwed up yet again. No wonder Ianto had been making such a big deal about the damn paperwork.

“Sorry, I’ll get onto that today. I promise. So, tell me, just how have you been getting in to work then?”

“Walking or getting the bus. Unless my boss makes me stay overnight that is.”

“Makes you? I’d never force you to stay over-”

“Maybe not, but it’s not like I’m up to walking far after, is it now?” Ianto smirked to himself as he heard Jack growl.

“You should have said. I’d have paid for a taxi.” 

“Yeah – and then put in a claim for it on expenses. I’d love to see how you’d justify that one.”

“I’m sure I could have thought up something –” A wave of insecurity suddenly blindsided Jack. “Does it bother you? Staying over at the Hub?”

“Although it’s true that I’ve slept in comfier, bigger beds and in better appointed bedrooms… I’m happier sleeping there with you, than somewhere else without you.”

Jack turned to look at Ianto, taken aback by the shy admission, only to see that he had decided to gaze out of the passenger window. He laid a hand on Ianto’s leg and gently caressed his thigh. 

“I love sleeping with you, too.” Jack smiled as he realised that he meant that in every way it could be interpreted and he knew that Ianto felt the same. His smile grew as he felt Ianto’s hand come to rest on top of his, gently rubbing his knuckles.

“Do you think you could try not blocking the entire pavement this time? The neighbours keep giving me hell over that.” 

“Oh, where’s the fun in that?” Jack compromised by only using up part of the pavement, leaving plenty of room for pedestrians to walk past. 

Once Jack had parked the SUV, and they’d both got out onto the street, their playful banter came to an abrupt end as they both felt gripped by the same feeling of dread. They were painfully aware that their arrival had probably been observed and the fact that they were being watched even as they stood there was more than slightly unsettling. The curtains that twitched were no longer comical intimations that some of the residents found the comings and goings at Ianto’s house rather scandalous, they had become ominous. 

“Pity we couldn’t bring Gwen with us – could have used her skills for interviewing the local residents.” Ianto waved cheerily at the window directly opposite his house to let Mrs Evans know he’d spotted her rearranging the ornamental cats on the windowsill. 

“You’re right, she does have a way of getting information out of people – they feel obliged to tell her everything.”

“There are times when it’s the only way to get to any peace and quiet.”

“That’s true. Got your keys?” Jack didn’t want to undermine Ianto by opening his own front door for him.

“Yep – aren’t you going to check on the cameras first? Maybe even tell me where they are?”

“In the alcove – to the right. Hidden behind that spider’s web.”

As Ianto put the key in the lock he glanced up in the corner that Jack had indicated and caught sight of the tiny camera lens glinting behind a grubby web, in which the dead bodies of numerous flies were wrapped in greying silk. 

“Web’s undisturbed – so they probably saw the camera being installed and then blocked transmission. That would indicate that they were already watching my house, before you were.”

“Yeah, looks that way doesn’t it.” Jack hated having to admit that he’d been too late.

“There’s no sign of the lock being forced at all – whoever got in, had a key.” 

The lock didn’t appear to have been interfered with in any obvious way. Ianto let Jack in first and noticed that he’d taken his gun from its holster once he was off the street, which was reassuring. They moved in tandem down the hall, Ianto pushing open the doors as Jack swept in, scanning quickly for intruders. Having ascertained that there was nobody waiting for them, they checked the living room first, starting with the bookshelves, looking for any signs of disturbance. They spoke in hushed tones in case there were any bugs planted.

“Ianto – do you realise they could have got in last night? While you were sleeping-” Jack hissed.

“No they couldn’t.” Ianto shook his head forcefully. “I keep a chain on the front door when I’m here alone at night.”

“Thank goodness for that – hang on, you never used to do that.”

“I know, but you surprised me once too often walking into my bedroom in the middle of the night smelling of sewers, with blood all over your shirt. I thought if I put the chain on you’d at least have to call first which would give me some warning. But it’s been a while since you’ve done that.”

“That’s because I take you weevil hunting with me these days.” Jack raised his eyebrows and grinned lasciviously at Ianto.

“You’re such an incurable romantic. Words can’t express the delight I feel knowing that you want me bleeding and stinking of sewers, just like you.”

“But the adrenaline rush is so much more fun when it’s shared,” Jack whispered into Ianto’s ear as they completed their search of the living room.

Ianto led the way to the kitchen and pointed at the pine table.

“Ok – this is where I found the pawn. It was there when I came in last night.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jack looked at Ianto sharply. If he’d have known, he would have taken him back to the Hub and not taken ‘no’ for an answer.

“What – to say that a chess piece had invaded my kitchen? That a pawn had fallen through the Rift and was wanting supper? If you recall, at the time I knew nothing of Gates’ threats.” Ianto glared at Jack in an accusatory fashion and was pleased to see him cringe in recollection. “And anyway, I thought it had something to do with you.”

“Me?”

“Who else did I think would leave cryptic messages for me?”

“I don’t do cryptic-”

“Bollocks – you’re the epitome of cryptic, you are.”

“Enigmatic maybe, mysterious… it’s why you love me.”

“Is it? You sure about that?” Ianto raised his eyebrows and moved closer to Jack. 

“What is it then? By the way - you didn’t deny loving me.” Jack leant forward to steal a kiss, slipping his tongue between Ianto’s lips and, meeting no resistance, deepened the kiss to show just how he felt.

“The coat –” Ianto was slightly breathless as he came up for air, which made his accent stronger and even more enticing to Jack. “I told you before, it’s the coat I love.” 

Ianto fondled the lapels and stroked the shoulders to emphasise his adoration for the garment. 

“And what about what’s inside it?” Jack took hold of Ianto’s hands and tucked them inside the coat placing them on his hips.

“You have to ask?” Ianto slid his hands further back and lower down, grasping hold of Jack’s arse so that he could pull him in towards his own body, until they were standing flush together in the middle of his kitchen. Both men were now breathing heavily, their responses heightened by adrenaline flowing in reaction to the danger they could sense. 

“Shall we check upstairs?” Jack whispered huskily into Ianto’s ear.

“We should do.” 

Although he was reluctant to retreat from the heat and security of Jack’s coat, Ianto knew they should at least finish searching his house before giving in to their needs. He was aware of the potential risks that the associated vulnerability brought with it, but those were almost outweighed by the strong desire he had to drag Jack into his bedroom and fuck him senseless. 

The physical side of their relationship provided an outlet for the tensions that built up from the ever-present threat of death that their jobs entailed. Jack needed sex after death, his own or that of others. He once said that it grounded him in life again. Ianto needed it when his own death seemed to be looming, it gave him something to want to stay alive for. It had been a while since they’d made love.

Ianto led the way up the stairs, holding on tightly to Jack’s hand as they made their way to his bedroom. On the landing, Jack motioned for Ianto to wait until he’d checked inside first. He pushed the door open and looked behind it, waving his gun at the wardrobe and the chest of drawers. Seeing nothing amiss he returned his attentions to Ianto, who was staring at the bed in horror.

“Hey – what’s the matter?”

“Jack – there’s something in there.” Ianto pointed towards the bed.

There was indeed an odd shaped bulge under the duvet. Jack told Ianto to be ready to pull off the bedcovers on his command and then to stand well back. Meanwhile, he aimed his gun at the suspicious looking lump, there was no way he was taking any chances.

Ianto flipped back the dark blue duvet to expose one of the pillows, on which rested yet another chess piece. This time it wasn’t a pawn, but a knight. As they moved closer, the two men could make out a dark stain on the pillow case beneath the knight – a dark red stain soaking into the pale blue cotton. The impact of the white horse’s head lying in his bed, surrounded by what looked like blood, made Ianto blanch and sway on his feet.

“Oh fuck.” He felt as if the room was closing in on him, darkness encroaching on the peripheries of his vision.

“You OK?” Jack reached out quickly, wrapping his arms about Ianto to keep him standing.

“Haven’t you seen The Godfather, Jack?”


	8. Chapter 8

Jack frowned, not sure that he understood the reference and turned to Ianto to ask for an explanation, only to find him fixated on the white knight sitting in the centre of a dark red stain on one of his pristine pillows. Evidently it was intended to be a warning and whoever had placed it there had known that its symbolism would not be lost on Ianto. 

“Ianto?” Jack tentatively tried to get the younger man’s attention. “You’re right, I’ve never seen The Godfather. Tell me what it means.”

“There’s a character in it, a movie producer, who refuses to do what the mafia want him to do, despite threats. That’s until he wakes up one morning with the head of his favourite racehorse in bed with him.”

“Oh shit.” Jack blanched, understanding why Ianto was shaking.

“The fucking bastards!” Ianto swore as he stormed across the room to the window. Flinging it open, he leaned out to see if he could catch his stalkers watching.

“Get away from there!” Jack yelled, grabbing hold of Ianto and dragging him back out of sight. He could feel the tension in Ianto’s arm muscles through the fabric of his suit jacket.

“Why bother? If all they wanted to do was kill me, they could’ve done that easily enough.” Ianto tried to ignore the way Jack cringed as he stated the blatant truth of the matter. 

“Ianto-”

Pushing Jack away from him, Ianto shook his head angrily.

“They’re playing with me. No. With us. If that knight is meant to represent you and it’s been left, bleeding in my bed… it’s a warning, telling me that I’ll bring you pain. That I’ll be responsible for your ruin –”

“No, Ianto!” Jack was prepared to let Ianto get angry, but not for him to feel guilty for something that hadn’t happened. Also, it reminded him of the time he’d been told that Ianto was his weakness, something he’d vehemently denied at the time. “I don’t give a damn what they’re trying to tell us. But there’s one thing I do know and it’s that until this is over, you’re staying at the Hub. You’re not safe here.”

“I can’t let them drive me out of my own home,” Ianto tried to sound resolute, attempting to deny the fact that a small piece of plastic had totally unnerved him.

“And I can’t let you stay here to be terrorised. Please, Ianto. I’m not saying you can’t take care of yourself, but this place is too dangerous now. We can’t even monitor it by camera without them blocking the transmissions. They can let themselves in and out of here whenever they want -”

“I could change the locks.” Ianto shrugged as if to say that’s all it would take.

“No.” Jack reached out and pulled Ianto close to him. “What we need to do now is regroup and play to our strengths.”

“Jack, have you any idea how bloody pathetic this makes me feel?”

“Yeah – I can see it all over your face. You’re pissed off and scared, which means you’re not thinking straight. I don’t blame you – I feel the same, but let’s see if we can’t channel that anger into fighting these bastards rather than letting it destroy us. You with me on this?” 

Jack raised his eyebrows and gave Ianto his best beseeching look, the one that usually allowed him to get his way.

“Alright, you win.” Ianto was defenceless in the face of Jack pleading with him and it was strangely reassuring to hear Jack admit to being as unsettled as he was.

“Why don’t you pack some clothes and whatever else you need?” 

“Shouldn’t we take that and see what the stain is?” Ianto pointed at the stained pillow.

“Yes, we should. We’ll bag it and take it back with us.” 

“I’ll go fetch a bin liner from the kitchen. In the meantime, do you think maybe you could check the other rooms up here?”

“No problem.” Jack could tell that Ianto wasn’t keen on searching any more rooms and was happy to go along with his request.

After Jack had ascertained that there were no more nasty surprises awaiting them in the spare room or the bathroom, he returned to the bedroom to see Ianto grimacing as he tightly tied a knot in the top of a bulging, polythene bag. He was concentrating on the job at hand, biting his lower lip to keep from making a sound, but his watering eyes and shaking hands betrayed his emotions.

“You OK?” Jack leaned on the door frame as he tried to work out what to say.

“No, I’m not. Those sick bastards are playing nasty fucking mind games. I’m nowhere near OK.” 

“Sorry, stupid question I guess. The sooner we get out of here the better. Are you going to get some clothes to bring with you? Not that I mind if you want to work naked, but I don’t suppose there’s much chance of that somehow…” 

“No, for all the same reasons I’ve given you on every other occasion when you’ve made that suggestion.” Ianto couldn’t completely suppress a small smile, knowing that Jack’s teasing had more to do with distracting him than with lechery for a change. “However, you’re right, I should pack some clothes to take with me.” 

Ianto went to the wardrobe and found that he couldn’t bring himself to open the door, afraid of what might be inside. His mouth was dry and as he tried once more to grasp the handle, he felt Jack’s large hands take hold of his arms and guide him back to the edge of the bed.

“Come here. How about you sit down and let me choose my favourite outfits for you to wear. Suitcase?”

“Under the bed – can you?”

“Sure. I’ll get it.” 

Jack could tell how much it hurt Ianto to ask him to open the wardrobe and to look under the bed. But there was no way of knowing exactly what those bastards might have done.

“This one do?” Jack hauled out a large red suitcase, noting the fine layer of dust on its surface. He wondered when it had last been used and decided that Ianto needed a proper holiday, one he’d like to take with him, perhaps when this was all over. As he unzipped the suitcase and opened it out in the middle of the bed, he couldn’t miss the look of horror on Ianto’s face as the dust was dispersed all over the dark blue duvet cover. 

“They must have come around after I left this morning. They must have been watching me leave. They can’t be far.” 

Ianto’s voice was shaking and he wasn’t looking too good. Jack knew he needed to get him out of there as soon as possible, but he also knew that if he forced Ianto out of the door straight away it would only foster resentment and undermine him. It was important not to just throw some clothes in a bag and make a hasty retreat. He wasn’t going to let Ianto feel as if he was being driven out. Jack smiled as an idea came to mind.

“Tell you what, I’ll pick the suits and shirts and you can sort out underwear and socks. You OK with that?”

“Am I going to regret saying yes?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“With my life, yes. But the contents of my wardrobe? Really, Jack.” Ianto tilted his head to one side and feigned a shocked expression. 

“Then I suggest you look away now.” 

Jack then opened the wardrobe and proceeded to select suits by touch, closing his eyes and running his fingertips along the ranks of neatly pressed jackets until he came across three made with a fine wool and silk blend that felt particularly luxurious. He could tell without looking that Ianto would be rolling his eyes and thinking of the dry-cleaning bill if he had to wear these out in the field. He selected the shirts based on colour, holding them out in the general direction of Ianto to see which he found most appealing. He decided he’d ask Ianto later about the way he had matching shirts hung alongside certain suits. As for ties, he just gathered them all from their hangers on the inside of the wardrobe door and tossed them at Ianto.

“Here, pack these.”

“Jack – I won’t get through this many ties, surely?” Ianto dropped the socks and underwear he’d taken from a drawer, onto the bed, so that he could catch the ties before they ended up in a tangled mass on the floor.

“That all depends on how good you are.” 

This time the wink and the grin were completely salacious and fully deserved the glare that they provoked. 

“I don’t suppose you have any silk pyjamas hidden away, do you?”

“Oh let me think …” Ianto paused as if pondering Jack’s request. “Delicate fabrics, you, me and your narrow bed. That would be a no.”

“Spoilsport. What about toiletries – or are you happy to share mine?”

“It’s OK, I’ll get some things from the bathroom. Us mere twenty-first century humans can’t rely on natural pheromones to smell gorgeous no matter what alien goo they’ve been dragged through.” 

Jack was pleased to detect a draining of tension – he’d do whatever it took to keep those shadows from Ianto’s eyes. 

Having gathered a case full of clothing and essential items, Ianto closed the lid of his suitcase, wondering where on earth all this stuff could go in the Hub. There definitely wasn’t room in Jack’s quarters.

“It’s no good Jack, I can’t move in with you. It’s alright to sleep over, but there’s no room and you need your space. I understand that. Look, we’ll have the locks changed, some big deadbolts maybe and then I’ll stay here. Or a hotel – I can go stay in a hotel.”

“No.”

“But-”

“It isn’t safe here. If you check into a hotel, they’ll find you. People who play games like this don’t give up and go away. Either you come back to the Hub with me, or I stay here with you. Personally, I know where I’d rather be.”

“Yes, I know you’re right. It’s just that this feels like we’re letting them win.”

“I know what you mean, but trust me, I only ever retreat when there is no choice. Have you got everything you’re going to need?”

“Downstairs – I need to get some DVD’s before we leave.”

“I can provide entertainment you know-” Jack grinned.

“For Owen, stop him watching trashy B movies.”

Jack grinned as he watched Ianto lift the suitcase from the bed and make his way down the narrow stairs. His smile deserted him as he saw that Ianto had left the bag containing the pillow. Reluctantly, he picked it up and threw it down the stairs, not wanting any more contact with it than necessary.

It didn’t take long for Ianto to gather a selection of DVDs to lend to Owen and carefully stack them in a carrier bag. As he left the house, Ianto wasn’t sure if it was worth locking up or not, but did so anyway. Jack seemed to stand guard as he opened the back of the SUV to put in the bags and the suitcase. Both men breathed a sigh of relief as they pulled the doors shut and Jack started the engine. Looking in every mirror in a pointless attempt to catch out their watchers, Jack released the handbrake and gently pressed the accelerator pedal to drive off the kerb. That’s when they heard a cracking sound as if they’d run over something.

They looked at each other in horror as Jack slammed the brakes on. Although they both had a chilling foreboding of what they’d find, they knew they had to get out and confirm their suspicions. As one, they released their seat belts and got out of the SUV. Jack checked the driver’s side whilst Ianto looked on the passenger side.

“Here, Jack.” Ianto had crouched down at the roadside and was pointing at several shiny fragments of brittle white plastic, some of which had embedded themselves in the tread of the tyre itself. 

“What’ve you got?”

“Bits of plastic. White plastic. Shattered. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Let’s pick up the pieces. Put them back together at the Hub.” Jack sighed as an alternative interpretation of his words came into sharp focus in his mind. As his eyes met Ianto’s he could tell the same thought had occurred to him.


	9. Chapter 9

When they finally returned to the Hub, Ianto was relieved to find only Tosh present to witness him carrying in a large suitcase. Jack spared Tosh a half-hearted smile as he strode past her workstation, heading for the autopsy bay. She looked from one man to the other, picking up on the tense atmosphere surrounding them both, and frowned, wondering what they’d discovered. Jack had what looked like a carrier bag of DVD’s that he dumped on Owen’s desk before taking another bulkier bag straight to the autopsy bay. 

Ianto felt particularly self-conscious, the case he was dragging across the floor seeming to represent the burden he imagined he was becoming to those around him. 

“If it’s alright with you, Jack, I’ll go hang up these suits before they get permanently crumpled.” 

Without waiting for an answer, Ianto turned to go in the opposite direction instead of following Jack

“OK.” Jack said dismissively, until he noticed Ianto heading for the locker room.

“Ianto, where are you going? There’s a closet in my quarters – you can use that.”

“Oh, I didn’t want to presume.” Ianto sounded flustered and unsure.

Jack moved across to where he was standing and took Ianto’s hand.

“What’s the matter?” he asked quietly. “When I said you should stay at the Hub, I meant with me.”

“Right, yes, of course… like I said, I don’t want to impose or anything.”

“You’re not. Why don’t you drop that off in my office for now?”

“OK, thanks.” Ianto couldn’t completely shake the awkward feeling, but he was grateful to Jack for the reassurance. “I’ll make some coffee, shall I? I assume you’d like some?” 

“I’d love some and I bet Tosh would too.” Jack directed this in the direction of Tosh who was watching the interchange with growing curiosity.

“Yes, please. I’d love some biscuits as well – I couldn’t find where you’d hidden them from the others.” 

Ianto spared Tosh a smile as he disappeared in the direction of Jack’s office, leaving Jack on his own to speak with her.

“Is he OK?” Tosh watched as Ianto made his way up the stairs, his head down and with an air of preoccupation about him.

“Not really,” Jack sighed, knowing that any benefits the other man had gained from his sojourn on Flat Holm had been wiped out in the last twenty-four hours. By persuading Ianto to move out of his house, he had allowed their enemy to score the first goal. He had allowed Ianto to feel defeated. 

“What’s wrong, Jack?”

“I’ll tell you about it when Ianto comes back with the coffee. Where are Gwen and Owen?” asked Jack, looking around.

“Still out on the Bay. Taking statements and dispensing retcon.”

“Was that necessary?” Jack asked, concerned that he’d missed something. “Did anyone actually see anything?”

“Gwen said there were some odd images captured on mobile phones. I’ll enhance them when they get back. However, I managed to narrow down the location of the burst in rift activity and it seemed to be very close to one particular boat. Hopefully, Gwen will have interviewed the crew and that may give us a better idea of exactly what happened.”

“Can you identify the vessel? Find out if it’s still there?”

“I have its registration number and from that I can track down its name and owner. But I can tell you that it’s no longer in the Bay. The harbour patrol boats were getting people to clear the area so that the divers could work without interference.”

“Get those details, Tosh. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Tosh pulled up the records on the vessel that was closest to the rift activity and printed them out. By the time she had returned from the printer, she found Jack at her workstation pulling up the profile of the rift activity that the system had recorded that morning. If it wasn’t for the fact that he seemed out of sorts she would have had been more irritated at him using her terminal, but she welcomed his input on this as she had no idea what was going on.

“You said there was something strange about this spike in activity – did you get anything more on that?” Jack pointed at the peculiar line described on the graphical display. It really did look as if the rift had suddenly erupted and then gone quiet once more, with barely a blip following the sharp peak. 

“Not really. Although the nearest I have on record is the opening and closing in the old hospital, when … when we got Tommy to use the rift key. But that was the inverse of this, high levels of activity suddenly shut down. Normally the rift shows indications of becoming either more or less active. That’s what my entire prediction program is based on.”

“Sorry, Tosh, but I need to ask this – does it look like this was manipulated? Does it have the same signature as a rift manipulator?” 

“In some respects – yes. But this isn’t like anything I’ve seen before – it’s almost off the scale, as if it was fully opened for the shortest of possible time intervals.”

“Damn. Looks like we’ll need to examine those witness accounts and the pictures taken before we can come to any conclusions on this.” 

Jack thought back to a conversation he’d had earlier that day with Ianto. He really hoped that this had nothing to do with a certain Time Agent, who had a taste for the dramatic. Thinking of Ianto he wondered if he had decided to hang up his suits after all. Knowing Ianto, he’d probably deliberately left him to talk to Tosh alone for a while. 

However, as if he really could read his mind, the object of his concern appeared on the edge of his peripheral vision, heading purposefully towards the coffee machine. Jack was relieved, he’d been starting to worry.

“Thanks for that.” Jack placed a hand on Tosh’s shoulder and nodded at the screen in front of her. “Before the others get back can you pull up what the cameras caught this morning from Ianto’s house?”

“This morning? They’ve not been back already?” Tosh whispered.

Jack nodded his head and ran a hand over his face, wanting to tell Tosh what they’d found, but his conscience nudged him into keeping it to himself for a little while longer. The last thing he wanted was for Ianto to think they were discussing him behind his back.

“I don’t suppose we caught them going in, but can you find out when the transmission was blocked?”

It didn’t take long for Tosh to pull up images of Ianto leaving for work that morning, patting his pocket as he set off. Then, not more than ten minutes later, the signal was lost for sixteen minutes. Jack swore under his breath, Ianto had been right, they had been waiting for him.

“Coffee?” Ianto made them both jump as he quietly approached, holding out a tray with three mugs of steaming hot coffee and a plate of biscuits, the ones thickly coated in chocolate that Jack particularly enjoyed. 

“Thank you,” Jack smiled, recognising that he’d now been officially forgiven for having set up surveillance on Ianto’s house without telling him.

“I take it that your cameras didn’t catch anything?” Ianto pulled a chair over to join them and took a sip from his own cup.

“No, they’re either invisible or have some very sophisticated technology if they can mess about with my electronics.” In any other circumstance Tosh would be envious of the gadget, but she was affronted that her attempts to safeguard Ianto had proved useless. 

“How did you know they’d been in your house? Had they left anything?”

Jack looked Ianto in the eye, making it clear that it was for him to discuss when he was ready. He could tell from his expression that the other man was grateful that he had waited before divulging to Tosh what they’d found.

“Chess pieces, Tosh. Two more, a knight tucked up in my bed re-enacting a notorious scene from The Godfather. In a puddle of what I really hope is fake blood.”

“Oh my God! That’s awful!” Tosh automatically reached out to grasp Ianto’s hand to offer comfort, even as she looked at him in horror. 

“You know what he’s describing?” Jack asked.

“Yes, Jack. Everyone knows that reference. It’s possibly the ultimate in menacing motifs … especially to a movie buff.”

“Which means they probably watched our trip to the Electro,” Ianto speculated as he brushed the biscuit crumbs that Jack had dropped onto the desk into a neat pile. 

“You said there were two chess pieces. Dare I ask about the other one?”

“It’s in here.” Ianto pulled a small bag from his pocket containing fragments of plastic. “It must have been placed under the tyre while we were in the house. They meant for Jack to crush it as he drove off. I’d put money on it being a pawn.”

Tosh took the bag from Ianto and emptied it onto the empty coffee tray ready to start the process of reassembling the badly crushed pieces. They could see from the shape of some of the pieces and the overall size of it that Ianto was probably right. Tosh opened the drawer of her desk to seek out an electronic magnifier that she propped up above the pieces and then took a pair of forceps from a pot of miscellaneous equipment to begin manipulating the fragments, separating the largest of the pieces to examine more closely.

“Ianto – your birthday’s in August isn’t it?”

“Yes, why?” Ianto swallowed nervously and then forced himself to smile and make light of the situation. “Promise me you won’t arrange a surprise party. I hate them.” 

“What is it, Tosh?” Jack had reached out to place an arm around Ianto’s shoulders, pleased to feel the other man lean into his support, rather then shrug out of it.

“This piece is the base and on the felt underneath there’s some writing, it’s very tiny print. I can just about make out the initials IJ and what looks like August 1983, then a dash followed by a question mark.”

Jack gripped hold of Ianto even tighter as the implicit threat hit home. Before they had the chance to discuss the implications, they were distracted by the sounds of bickering voices on the lift.

“Don’t say anything to them. Not yet, please?” 

Ianto needed time to come to terms with the fact that he had yet again become the target of some sort of vendetta. He couldn’t help but suspect that the reason they were focusing on him was as a means of getting to Jack. As he felt the arm of his lover tighten about him, he knew without doubt that he couldn’t allow himself to be used to destroy Jack. He’d do whatever it took to make sure that never happened.

“OK – but we will deal with this.” Jack said quietly as he pressed a quick kiss to Ianto’s forehead.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the break in posting. I had shingles, which was unpleasant and exhausting. Then I went back to work - possibly too early - which was also very tiring.
> 
>  
> 
> OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The sounds of bickering preceded Owen and Gwen as they descended into the Hub. Gwen was gripping hold of Owen’s arm for dear life as the lift descended into the Hub. Both looked worse for wear, dishevelled, with their hair slicked down and their coats soaked through. However, only Gwen was shivering.

“I’m bloody freezing, Owen! And my legs are still wobbly! Why the hell did you suggest the lift?”

“For my own sick amusement, Gwen. And is it really necessary to hold on that fucking tight? If you break me, you know I won’t mend.” 

“Oh my God, is that fresh coffee I can smell? Ianto?” 

“Yes?” Ianto felt Jack’s arm slip from his shoulder as they both turned to look in the direction of the voices that couldn’t be ignored. Ianto found himself caught in the full beam of Gwen’s hazel brown eyes that took no prisoners. 

“Be a love and fetch me a mug of coffee-”

“Please.” Jack interjected into her demand, standing up slowly, his arms folded across his chest. 

“What was that?” Gwen looked confused by Jack’s interruption.

“Say please or you won’t get any coffee.” Jack’s eyebrows moved up slightly as he allowed his eyes to move from Gwen to Ianto, hoping she’d get the message.

“Please, Ianto.”

“That’s better,” Jack nodded in approval. 

It was bad enough that he took Ianto for granted more often than he should, but Jack wasn’t going to condone the rest of the team doing it any longer. Especially Gwen Cooper. It wouldn’t hurt to make things a bit more obvious, he’d allowed his own behaviour towards the younger man, in front of the team, to appear ambivalent far too often. That would have to change. 

“No problem, Gwen. I expect you’ll be wanting biscuits with that?” Ianto said over his shoulder, as he carefully stepped around the dripping woman to fetch one more cup of coffee.

“That’ll be lovely, sweetheart,” Gwen called after him and then as soon as he was out of sight, turned and hissed: “What’s all that about, Jack? I’ve been out in the freezing bloody cold, getting seasick and wet, while you two have been indoors in the warm, probably getting very cosy if I know you -”

“Drop it, Gwen.” Jack’s voice was firm and brooked no argument. 

“What is it, Jack?” Gwen was immediately alerted to the fact that something had happened and that Jack was hiding something from her. 

“Why don’t you tell me what you found out about the creature of the lagoon?” Jack deliberately changed the subject, having no intention of discussing what was really bothering him. Even if Ianto hadn’t asked him to say nothing, he always found Gwen’s tenacious approach to acquiring information an incentive to hold his secrets even closer to his chest than normal.

“Can I have you got those images you took off the mobiles of your witnesses?” asked Tosh, sensing that Gwen wasn’t going to let the matter go easily and wanting to do whatever she could to help Jack divert her. 

It seemed that both Tosh and Jack had independently decided that the last thing Ianto needed right now would be Gwen’s curiosity and pity. Tosh had already taken advantage of the fact that Gwen was almost oblivious to what the rest of them got up to, as long as Jack was in the room, to scoop the plastic shards back into the bag and tucked it into the drawer of her desk. 

If anything, Gwen was glaring at Jack even more intensely, Tosh’s abrupt request having made her even more suspicious. She couldn’t stand it when Jack kept things from her and it would seem that he’d already spoken to Tosh about something whilst she’d been out of the Hub with Owen. Seeing that he wasn’t prepared to take her into his confidence anytime soon, she resolved to ask Ianto about it as soon as Jack was busy. In the meantime, she handed over her own phone, onto which she’d transferred all the photographic evidence. On site, she had made sure to ‘accidentally’ erase all traces of the clearer images from the owners’ mobiles and had checked out whether or not they had forwarded those images to anyone, including assorted branches of the media.

“I think some of them have been forwarded to friends and family – you might want to make a cover up story a priority on this one, get our picture and story to the press first.” 

Ianto had reappeared, silently as always, and handed Gwen her mug of coffee and a plate of biscuits, which she eagerly accepted. Jack caught his eye and gave him a look of mock admonishment when he saw that they weren’t the chocolate ones that Ianto saved for whoever was in favour with him at the time. His suspicions were confirmed as Ianto raised an eyebrow in return. Not only that, but they looked like the plain digestive biscuits that he didn’t care for himself. Gwen was too busy, taking the mug and plate from Ianto, to notice the attention the biscuits were receiving. 

“I’ll get to work on that, Tosh,” offered Ianto. “If you can give me one of those pictures to manipulate.” 

Ianto smiled pleasantly – the sort of expression he could muster even though his world was falling apart around him, Jack noted with pride, although it was tinged with sadness. He could tell that Ianto was torn between his professional commitments and his personal needs, but he would put Torchwood business first and worry about his own situation later. Jack wished that he could do something to comfort him, but the circumstances weren’t being very accommodating. Later, he promised himself, later.

“I’ll send anything useful to your terminal along with those other documents we discussed earlier.” 

“Thanks, Tosh.” Ianto knew what she was referring to and was grateful that she had been deliberately vague in front of the others. He was also relieved to notice that she had removed the fragments of the chess piece from the tray.

Watching the interchange between the two, Jack was actually glad of a task to keep their minds off the inevitable subject of the renegade Torchwood One people and their activities, even though it did put that investigation on hold temporarily. The ‘beast in the Bay’ gave them all something to focus on that would get them working like a team, which he had a feeling would be vital in the days to come. 

“What about eye witness accounts?” Jack asked Gwen, whilst watching with fascination as Tosh uploaded a range of images to her computer and began opening them one by one. 

“As unreliable as ever,” Owen butted in, taking advantage of Gwen having just taken a mouthful of biscuit. “It’s either a sea monster or a dolphin or a man overboard – depending on who you talk to. There was one nutter convinced it was a bloody mermaid. But nothing’s washed up so far, which is good news for the thing that fell in and probably very bad news for us.”

Meanwhile, Tosh was carefully studying the images, mostly blurred or fuzzy pictures of the surface of the Bay, disturbed as if something had fallen into the water. One or two of the filmed sequences showed up a vague outline of an object in the midst of the splashing water. Then there was one that had, by chance, caught the object at just the right moment. This she enhanced and enlarged to fill the screen, showing clearly what could only be interpreted as a set of hinged appendages, similar to lobster claws, but narrower, longer and sharply serrated. They were also at least ten times the size of those of any lobster she’d ever seen.

“Whoa! That’s a fucking big crustacean!” Owen was impressed and immensely glad that he’d decided not to take a dive in the Bay. “Where the hell did that come from? ‘Planet of the Claws’?” 

“I’ve heard of a race of giant sentient crabs called the Macra … a group of colonisers came across them… nasty things-” Jack shuddered, he didn’t like crustaceans unless they were served with melted butter or a seafood sauce. “I really hope it’s not one of them.”

“No – it’s not crab-like,” Tosh had been busy enhancing the other images and calculating the size of the creature. “I’ve worked out from the impact splash that the shape of the creature was long and thin – more like a lobster I suppose. Approximately two metres long.”

“So, what do you think?” Ianto had sat on the edge of Tosh’s desk and was looking at the images with growing curiosity. “Radiation poisoning from the North Sea creating mutant prawns… I mean it doesn’t have to be alien, does it? Perhaps it’s prehistoric – I mean if a pteranodon can fall through from millions of years ago, couldn’t something else?”

“For fuck’s sake, that’s all we bloody need, more fucking dinosaurs for Ianto to keep as pets,” muttered Owen.

“Is that possible?” Gwen looked at Jack intensely. “You never did tell me where you found Myfanwy.”

“I didn’t. It was Ianto who found her.” Jack shared a secretive smile with Ianto. “Long story. And, no, it’s not for sharing.”

Owen and Tosh watched the silent communication between the two men and then witnessed with amusement the annoyance on Gwen’s face at being so far out of the loop, she may as well have been in orbit around another planet. Ianto picked up on Gwen’s discomfort and got up to collect the empty mugs.

“Oh yes,” Jack suddenly recalled something he wanted to ask Gwen. “According to Tosh’s data there was a boat very close to where that thing came through the rift – they should have seen it close up, or at the very least the opening of the rift. I was hoping you’d have spoken to the crew. Tosh - where are the details on that?”

Tosh passed Jack the printout which included details of the registration number, class, make and size of vessel. He showed it to Gwen and was pleased that she recognised the description. 

“Yes – we did see that, but the men on board said they hadn’t seen anything at all. They were down below at the time, sleeping. They were woken up by all the activity on the water as everything else moved in to see what was going on. I didn’t bother asking them anything else. I was just glad that it was one less set of people for Owen to retcon.” 

“That boat happened to move out of the Bay while you were there – we may need to talk to them again. You didn’t spot the name of it, did you?”

“Yes, I did now you mention it. It was a very pretty yacht, with a glossy black hull and the name was written in beautiful lettering. It really caught my eye. It was called the ‘Brenhinnes Du’.”

The sound of crockery crashing to the floor startled them all, as did the sight of Ianto standing behind them, looking decidedly flustered.

“You OK, love?” Gwen wondered what was wrong.

“Sorry, bit clumsy today – I’ll go fetch a dustpan and brush, tidy up this mess.”

Before anyone else could ask Ianto what was wrong, he made a rapid exit. 

“Gwen, the name of the yacht? It’s Welsh, yes?” asked Tosh urgently. “What would that be in English?”

“Brenhinnes Du? The Black Queen,” Gwen smiled. “Ever so pretty it was.”

“OK, people.” Jack gritted his teeth, determined not to swear out loud or break anything. “Gwen, you’re cold and wet, so I suggest you go home and get your husband to warm you up. Owen, there are some DVD’s on your desk that Ianto assures me will keep you out of trouble and may even educate you. Go home. You too, Tosh, you’ve been virtually living here the past few weeks.”

Tosh nodded her head, giving Jack a knowing look and began logging off the programs she had running, making sure to forward the relevant documents that she’d compiled to Ianto. She understood what had freaked Ianto out and could tell that Jack needed the opportunity to talk to him in private, without the others present.

Owen sauntered off towards his desk, grabbing the bag of DVDs with a secret smile. He knew how much Ianto’s collection meant to him and was honoured that he would lend any of his movies to him.

However, Gwen wasn’t so eager to leave. She gave Jack the look that suggested she hadn’t quite understood him and then pointed at Ianto, who was busy sweeping up the broken mugs.

“What about Ianto, doesn’t he get to leave early too?”

“Nope, he’s staying here, with me.” 

Jack ignored Gwen’s questioning gaze and focused solely on Ianto. In the space of a day, the situation had begun to spiral out of control. They had to be the same people responsible for the threats on Ianto and what appeared to be a crude demonstration of a particularly powerful rift manipulator. Their enemy was not just unpredictable and sinister, but also more dangerous than Jack had imagined.


	11. Chapter 11

Jack escorted Gwen all the way to her car, just to make sure she actually left the premises, fielding her questions en route as best he could. He explained that Ianto would be staying at the Hub until they figured out who had broken into his house and dealt with them. Naturally she had insisted on putting her police training to practice and had offered to call in a few favours at the station to help expedite their enquiries. It had taken all Jack’s diplomatic skills, which weren’t inexhaustible by any means, to persuade her to wait until morning. Part of him thought it might not be such a bad idea, while his gut instinct was still calling for keeping this in-house until they knew more. He knew she meant well, but it was taking more and more out of him to keep her tenacious approach under control. 

By the time he had returned to the centre of the Hub, it was eerily quiet. Tosh and Owen’s computers were on stand-by, most of the lights were out and there was no sign of Ianto. The broken mugs had been swept away and the spilt coffee mopped up. For one fleeting moment Jack thought that maybe Ianto had decided to wait for him in his quarters. Before he could belay that thought, a smile had taken control of his lips and he was already walking in the direction of his office. However, all was in darkness there and the hatch to his sleeping area firmly shut, which it wouldn’t have been if it was occupied. He frowned, wondering where the hell Ianto had got to. He hadn’t taken that long seeing Gwen out, had he? One glance at his watch showed otherwise – he had spent a good half hour in the woman’s company. 

The next place he checked was the autopsy bay, where the bundle containing the stained pillow still sat propped against the bench where he’d left it earlier. No indication whatsoever that the missing man had been there. 

Jack was getting increasingly frustrated, he’d got rid of the others so that he could talk to Ianto alone and now he was nowhere to be found. An icy fist clenched his gut as he feared the worst and thought maybe he’d headed back to his house despite what they’d agreed. No, he wouldn’t do that, but maybe he would have sought refuge in what had become his second home.

Making his way through the doors to the lift that took him up to ground level, Jack wished he’d insisted on everyone staying on comms at all times. He was growing progressively more irritated and more than a little concerned. 

“Ianto? Are you there?” Jack tried to keep the worry out of his voice.

“Yep – I’m here. What kept you?” 

“What are you doing up here?” Jack stood in the doorway, partly relieved to have found that Ianto had not left the Hub, but also curious as to what he was busy doing on his computer in the tourist office rather than at his work station in the central area.

“Working.”

“I can see that, why here?”

“If you must know, I wanted to see daylight.”

“Oh, I see.” Jack wasn’t sure that he did, but the sad tone in Ianto’s voice kept him from pushing the issue. “What needed working on so urgently?”

“You took the liberty of sending everyone else home – someone had to get things done.”

“Such as?”

“For a start, the official report on the activity in the Bay – a dolphin swimming off course, distracted by the sounds of boats coming in and out of the harbour. That’s now with the local papers, regional TV stations, the usual recipients.”

Ianto clicked on a file to open the picture he’d doctored to show a flipper breaking through the waves, without a claw or pincer in sight.

“That could have waited.” Jack leaned back on the counter, folding his arms across his chest, sighing with exasperation. Ianto’s efficiency had been elevated a notch or two, a sure indication of the stress he was under.

“No, it couldn’t have, sir.” Ianto tapped the keys angrily as he closed the files. Only then did he turn to glare at Jack. “Our work can’t go on hold because some ghosts from the past are playing mind games.”

“They’re not just playing mind games, they’re threatening to kill you!” Jack spat out the words as if they were poison on his tongue.

“No, not as such, that’s just what they want us to think. They want us to react exactly as you have been! They want us on the defensive.”

“Would you rather I didn’t give a damn!”

“No, of course not.” Ianto took a slow, deep breath and then let his anger dissipate. “It’s just that … this rift spike and that thing in the Bay… there’s something going on and it’s quite possible that they’re trying to distract you by putting the frighteners on me.”

“So, you admit it, you’re frightened?”

“Yes, yes, of course I’m scared – for a start they know me too well, whoever is doing this knows all the right buttons to push.” Ianto shook his head slowly, dismissing that concern that he’d not wanted to share with Jack. “But we can’t afford to dwell on that. These events are all co-ordinated.”

“What makes you say that?” Although Jack already had his own suspicions, he wanted to know why Ianto had come to the same conclusion.

“The Brenhinnes Du? The Black Queen – too much of a coincidence if you ask me. I’ve already been in touch with the Harbour Masters Office by the way and put in a request for them to do what they can to trace that vessel and to alert us as soon as it comes ashore anywhere on the South Wales coast.” 

“Good – thank you. You stayed on the ball when I lost it. Sorry.”

“I can’t afford for this to get to me, Jack. I can’t.” However, it was evident that it had got to Ianto and was already hurting him.

Jack pushed away from the counter and moved towards Ianto slowly, wanting to offer comfort without implying that he thought Ianto couldn’t cope without it. He held out a hand, palm upwards in a gesture that he hoped conveyed that he was offering not forcing. He was glad that the other man reached out and took his hand and squeezed it tight before letting go so that he could call up some other files that he’d apparently been looking at before Jack had found him.

“There’s more.”

“What have you got?”

Ianto didn’t answer directly but pointed at the screen of his computer, spreadsheets of names and dates were displayed, several documents arranged alongside one another.

“This is the list that Tosh put together of potential renegades from London still unaccounted for.”

Jack couldn’t help but see the way Ianto’s hand was shaking as he gripped hold of the mouse as he scrolled through the list and highlighted a group of names that he cut and superimposed onto a second list. 

“What’s the significance of those people?”

“They were all working on the Ghost Shift program. I’ve managed to cross reference these to technicians and scientists assigned to the particle engines that Hartman had them fire at the breach in the Void. The expertise of the others, those I’ve highlighted in green, was in the detection of temporal and spatial disturbances.” 

“Like the Void?”

“Yes – and the Rift. Between them they could monitor our Rift and maybe even build a crude device to manipulate it. Open it wide enough to let something through…” 

“Why would they want to do that? That’s what I can’t figure out – what can they gain by opening the Rift to let aliens, or prehistoric creatures fall through?”

“So it occurred to you as well?”

“I thought it looked as if we were dealing with people with a Rift manipulator, I just couldn’t figure out where they’d get one. You’ve answered that question for me though. But it doesn’t make sense…”

“Maybe they’re trying to harness the energy – that’s what Hartman thought she could do with the Void.”

“Oh yes and that turned all real good didn’t it-” Jack blurted out sarcastically before seeing the way that Ianto was cringing. “Sorry, Ianto. I didn’t think…”

“It’s OK, no-one ever does,” Ianto whispered to himself, not surprised by the grip on his arm to realise that Jack had heard him. 

“We’ve got a list of names, right? That’s a starting place. We’ll get onto them first thing tomorrow-”

“No. I’ll do it now.”

“You’re tired. It’ll wait-”

“No, it fucking won’t! Until I see this through to the bitter end I won’t be able to sleep. Don’t you get that? They’re going to try to use me as a lever to blindside you. There has to be something you can do to stop them and that’s why they want you distracted.” 

“What do you suggest?”

“Pre-empt them and take me out of the picture.” Ianto looked defeated, his shoulders slumped and he refused to meet Jack’s eyes.

“No!” Jack didn’t know quite what was going through Ianto’s head, but he didn’t like the sound of it. 

“I wasn’t thinking permanently. Although …”

“No way, Ianto. You’re staying here with me. We’re seeing this through together.” 

“But you’re not thinking straight-” Ianto began to protest.

“On the contrary – they made their mistake by threatening you, they made it personal and I never lose that sort of fight.” 

Jack leaned over Ianto’s shoulder to close all the programs he’d been working on and then shut down the computer. Rather than waste any more breath on words, he spun Ianto’s chair around and pulled him up to his feet. 

“Now let’s see what I can do about helping you relax so you can get some damn sleep.”

Wrapping one arm around the younger man’s waist and the other across his back, Jack leaned forward to take Ianto's mouth in a deep and longing kiss that wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses purely on Jack taking Ianto's mind off the issues troubling them. It does contain a fairly explicit scene - so if you would rather skip this, you'll not be missing any plot. However, it may prove to be a pleasant interlude in the angst. 
> 
>  
> 
> OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Jack led Ianto to the lift that took them back down into the heart of the Hub and then guided him wordlessly towards his office. At the hatch, he paused and taking hold of Ianto's hand in his, he asked seriously:

“Please will you let me take your mind off this for one evening? One night?”

Ianto faced Jack and ran a finger along the lapel of his coat before whispering:

“I think you need this as much as me, if not more.”

“Is that a ‘yes’?” Jack asked nervously.

“What about you?” Ianto knew the answer, but wanted to hear Jack say it.

“Yes – I do need this. And I want to show you just how much I need you.”

“Well then, I can hardly say ‘no’ then, can I?”

“You could. You always can, any time.”

“I know that, but you don’t make it easy, what with those bloody pheromones and that coat…”

“Tell you what, I’ll lose the coat then and make it easier for you-”

“By unleashing those pheromones full blast? Not sure how that makes it easier to resist you.”

The gentle teasing had taken the edge off the anxiety that Jack had felt coming off his lover in waves as they’d made their way from the Tourist Office to the threshold of his sleeping quarters. It had been a while since they had spent quality time together and yet again it would seem that there were forces gathering that would wrench them apart at the first opportunity. Which meant that, yet again, their relationship was being driven more strongly by fear of loss than by the simple joy of being together, something that normal people took for granted. 

Jack leaned forward, gathering Ianto into his arms as the melancholic thoughts pervaded his consciousness without invitation. To hell with whatever fate had in hold for them both, he wanted to enjoy Ianto’s company in his bed and to drive the shadows away for a few hours.

“So, is that a ‘yes’ to letting me show you how much you mean to me?”

“I thought the offer involved showing me how much you needed me?”

“Same thing.” Jack shrugged, as he reluctantly let go of Ianto’s hand so that he could slip off his coat and hang it up on the coat rack.

Jack let the younger man go down the ladder first and promptly followed, turning on one of the wall lights and dimming it so that they were in semi-darkness. He mused for a while that Ianto would look good in candle light – another day, he promised himself.

“Don’t move – I want to undress you,” Jack spoke quietly, stilling Ianto as he began to take off his jacket. 

Slowly and meticulously, Jack removed one item of clothing after another, starting with jacket and waistcoat, which he actually put on a wooden hanger and hung up on a hook on the wall. Then after deftly divesting Ianto of his shoes and socks, Jack ran his hands up the backs of his calves from where he was crouched at Ianto’s feet, almost causing him to fall over. He was in two minds as to which article of clothing to leave to last, but settled for the shirt. Standing up he turned Ianto around so that he was facing the bed and then he slid his hands around his waist to unbuckle the belt, unfasten the button of his trousers and then slowly lower the zip. Pulling Ianto close to his chest he lowered his hands into the warmth beneath the waistband and then gradually slid the trousers over his slim hips and to the ground, following their descent he pressed soft kisses to the back of the other man’s thighs and then lifted one foot at a time to free the trousers, which he then folded neatly and placed on the back of a small chair. Underwear was similarly dispensed with, the touch of its fabric on skin replaced by the touch of Jack’s lips. 

With Ianto now wearing nothing but a shirt, Jack pulled him back flush to his still dressed body, Ianto’s bare skin against his woollen trousers and whispered a question in his ear:

“Do you trust me?”

“Totally.”

“Good. I want you to stand where you are. Don’t turn around and don’t move. OK?”

“Yes.” By now Ianto was beginning to tremble slightly, not because he didn’t trust Jack, but because he did. 

Behind him, Ianto could hear Jack undressing, quickly, and then unzipping something – something that sounded suspiciously like his suitcase. He frowned, but out of curiosity rather than concern. However, he didn’t have to wonder for long what Jack was up to.

“Close your eyes, no peeking.”

As soon as he let his eyes shut he felt a familiar, slippery fabric brush against his face. He realised that Jack was using one of his ties to blindfold him.

“Tell me if it’s too tight.”

“That’s good.” Ianto’s voice came out deeper than usual. Jack had barely done a thing to him and he was already turned on. He knew precisely what Jack was doing, he was taking control of the situation away from him entirely, to give him freedom to enjoy the experience without feeling in the least bit responsible for what happened. And Jack was damn good at that.

The next thing he felt were hands, one sliding under his shirt and the other moving down the buttons on the outside, expertly undoing them one by one. The shirt was then thrown to one side. Jack had apparently decided that he’d want to wear a fresh one in the morning. 

Taking his hand, Jack led Ianto to the bed and carefully arranged him so that he was lying on his back. 

Jack hoped that Ianto couldn’t hear the rustling of silk ties that he’d grabbed hold of with his free hand. Ties were not always the safest of restraints, the knots in them could be hard to tug free in emergencies, and the silk could bunch up tightly and cut into soft skin, yet seeing as he would be the one tying them, there was less cause for concern. 

Taking one of Ianto’s hands at a time, Jack delicately kissed the skin on the inside of the wrist before expertly knotting one end of a tie around it and then fastening the other end to a bed post. There was enough slack in the ties to allow for some movement, but not enough for Ianto to be able to use his arms or hands. He’d have to lie back and take whatever Jack saw fit to do to him. He left Ianto’s legs untied so that he could manoeuvre them. 

“You OK there?”

“Mm hmm…” mumbled Ianto. “But I’d feel better if you could reassure me that you’ve not used my favourite ties… they’ll never be the same-”

“Hush, don’t worry. Just concentrate on what I’m going to do to you, not your ties.”

“What do you have planned for me then?” Ianto gasped softly as he felt Jack’s naked body pressing closer to his. However, the fact that the full weight wasn’t there, suggested that Jack had propped himself up on his arms so that the contact was there without the pressure.

“I’m going to worship your body with my fingers… my lips… my tongue … and my cock…” Jack breathed the words slowly into Ianto’s ear, punctuating his statements of intent by grasping the earlobe between his teeth and sucking gently. “I’m going to take you to the very edge of sanity... push you over … then catch you on the other side.” 

All Ianto could do in response was to mumble something incoherent, but Jack didn’t need an articulate answer to determine his approval, it was all too evident, pressing into the soft flesh of his abdomen. 

True to his word, Jack paid homage to every part of Ianto’s body he could get to … nibbling, sucking, caressing and stroking … working his way lower and lower, the focus of his attentions became all to clear to Ianto … although he was teased mercilessly before any contact was made … 

Once Jack had homed in on his target, he wasted no time, not only taking Ianto’s cock into his mouth and using his tongue in a way that was totally obscene, he’d also managed to procure some lube at some point and was sliding his fingers in, one at a time, deliciously, easing, soothing, opening, stroking to good effect… the dual assault was taking Ianto to that very brink that Jack had promised … 

Ianto wanted nothing more than to wrap his legs around Jack and pull him in even closer, but they felt boneless and unresponsive.

Jack looked up to see Ianto straining against the ties, grasping the length of silk in each fist, his face screwed up in that expression bordering ecstasy and torment, his mouth open as he gasped loudly … without warning Jack let Ianto’s cock slip from between his lips and moved up the bed to plunder that mouth that was begging to be taken, his tongue thrusting in as he pressed harder against the writhing body beneath his, pushing it firmly into the mattress, holding the bucking hips down… rubbing his own arousal between the opened thighs, seeking access to the entry he’d so carefully prepared … 

“I’m going to remove just one tie –” Jack’s voice was breathless. “Choose one, you can either get to touch me or see me. What’s it to be?”

“The blindfold… take it off, need to see you …please…” There was no hesitation, Ianto desperately needed to see Jack’s eyes, to make that connection.

Jack slid the blindfold down around Ianto’s neck and paused to take in the dilated pupils, darkened due to the combination of lack of light and excess adrenaline and endorphins. Despite knowing the precise reasons for the black pupils edged with brilliant blue, Ianto’s eyes were still beautiful to him.

Unable to quell his own desires, Jack tucked his hands behind Ianto’s knees to pull his legs upwards and outwards, allowing him to plunge into Ianto’s warm and willing body. Sweat dripped from his chest as he thrust in slowly at first before his own needs overtook him. Ianto’s legs wrapped around his waist urged him to move faster and deeper. The sounds the other man was making made it clear that he was perilously close to that very precipice Jack had threatened to take him to - sharp, short breaths, coming fast and erratically as the sensations overwhelmed him. 

Jack reached down to tug on his cock firmly in time with his thrusts, wanting them to come together, he needed to dive off that edge taking Ianto with him… which he did with exclamations and profanities, as they felt themselves plummet into that narrow chasm between bliss and exquisite agony that resulted from such intense love-making.

Ianto slowly came back to his senses a little while later, the outside world gradually encroaching on their isolated island of collapsed bodies and sweaty limbs, realising that he hadn’t been aware of anything at all beyond the elation of the moment when Jack had come hard inside him, triggering his own release. But the cool air made him shiver as it chilled his damp and sticky chest. The ties that held him to the bed chafed as they rubbed against the sensitive skin on his wrists and he was crushed beneath Jack’s body that lay across him making it hard for him to catch his breath, especially with his arms outstretched. 

“Jack…” he gasped. 

“Mmmm…”

“Can’t breathe…”

“Shit … sorry…”

Jack quickly scrambled up, lifting himself off Ianto’s body and reached up to untie the silk restraints, which had tightened more than he had anticipated. The knots proved too difficult to manipulate, so Jack reached over to a drawer in his nightstand, pulled out a knife and promptly sliced through the bindings, noting the fleeting look of horror on Ianto’s face. 

“Um…sorry?” Jack winced realising that wielding a knife so unexpectedly was not the wisest of moves.

Ianto sat up, flexed his aching shoulders and then wrapped his arms about Jack, pulling him close and kissing him affectionately.

“I think you owe me at least two new ties,” Ianto said as he held out his hands, looking in dismay at the remnants of ties that were dangling from his wrists. He then grinned broadly as he sunk back down onto the mattress. “Thank you … that was …”

“Yeah … it was, wasn’t it?” Jack pressed his lips tenderly to Ianto’s forehead. “Think you’ll be able to sleep now?”

Jack smiled indulgently as he leaned back to take in the delectable sight of his deliciously debauched and drowsy lover sprawled out before him. 

“Will you stay?” Ianto asked uncertainly.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”


	13. Chapter 13

Jack smiled as he took in the sight of the frayed remnants of Ianto’s ties that were neatly positioned next to a large mug of coffee on his desk, along with a requisition for replacements. He had wondered what had become of them after Ianto had got dressed that morning. It had almost been worth Ianto’s outrage to get to watch him sleep with the shreds of blue and white striped silk attached to his wrists and the displaced blindfold around his neck. Visible proof that only he could get Ianto to willingly surrender control, something he viewed as a privilege and one he relished the opportunity to partake of whenever he possibly could.

The knocking at his office door broke Jack’s reverie and he looked up in time to catch Gwen staring at the ruined ties in horror.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed and before Jack could stop her she had dashed across to his desk and snatched up one of the pieces to examine it more closely.

“Shit, Jack, those cuts look vicious. The bastards must have used a bloody knife – where did you find this?”

“It’s OK, Gwen, really – give that back please.” Jack really didn’t want to explain that he’d Ianto tied to his bed the night before, a situation that actually took him by surprise, there had been a time when he would have delighted in bragging about such exploits. But this wasn’t some random sex partner – it was Ianto. 

“But, Jack, this is serious!” Gwen waved the vandalised article of clothing in front of his face, which was wrong in so many ways. 

Jack heard a muted noise at the door that could have been the sound of choking or maybe a stifled snigger. Ianto cleared his throat politely after catching Jack’s eye and deciding to assist him rather than add to his discomfort. 

“No, Gwen – not a victim of my stalkers.” Ianto walked across and swiftly took the remains of his tie from her hand and gathered up the others from the desk. He then stood behind Jack, placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “It was Jack that cut them.”

“Why…”

“You don’t want to know the details, trust me.” Jack glared at Ianto, whose lips curled gracefully in a smile that was anything but innocent. 

“Jack…” Gwen said slowly and dangerously as she looked from one man to the other. The furtive looks they shared convinced her that whatever her imagination came up with, the truth was probably even more intriguing. She swallowed hard, pondering the possibility of Rhys having any spare ties around other than his ones for smart occasions. 

“He’s going to replace them. Aren’t you, Jack?” Ianto leaned over to pick up the empty mug, his sleeve riding up just enough to reveal faded red marks that only Jack could see. 

“Yes, Ianto.” Jack stilled Ianto’s hand briefly to gently stroke the soft skin on the inside of his wrist. “I’d hate it to be said that I wantonly destroyed your ties and then refused to have them replaced.”

“So, Gwen, not a problem, see?” Ianto perched on the edge of Jack’s desk and raised an eyebrow as if to challenge her to pursue the matter any further. 

“He’s right,” Jack continued, bemused by Gwen’s stunned expression. “But there is something you can help us with. I’d like to take you up on your offer yesterday to liaise with Cardiff Police – on two fronts. One, the Brenhinnes Du… is that how you say it?”

“No – but don’t try again,” replied Gwen, with a pained expression on her face. “You’re making Ianto feel queasy.”

“Fine. The yacht - anything they can find out about it. Where it came from, where it went…anything. Also, I’d like you to arrange for some house-to-house enquiries in Ianto’s street. It would be better to get the local community police involved maybe, asking about suspicious behaviour, you know the drill.”

“Door-to-door enquiries? No problem,” Gwen responded. “I know just the man.”

“There are some champion curtain-twitchers across the road from Ianto and I bet they’d love to tell the cops what they’ve seen. Someone must have noticed his house getting broken into twice by now.”

“Jack? It’s possible that they could have been again.” Ianto had reached out to rest his hand on Jack’s arm. He was frowning. “Since yesterday. They could have returned. Maybe we should check?”

“Damn, you’ve got a point. I’ll take Owen with me to check. I don’t want you anywhere near the place until we know more.”

“But-”

“Don’t force me to make that an order, Ianto, please.” Jack had placed his hand over Ianto’s and was squeezing it tight.

“OK,” sighed Ianto, deciding not to argue with Jack, at least not in front of Gwen. “But if they’ve been there, I want you to tell me everything. No holding back on the details. Deal?”

“Sure. I’ll notice if anything’s been done – and I promise to keep you informed.”

Gwen picked up on the body language between the two men and it occurred to her, yet again, that there was more going on than Jack had told her. Ianto was usually very good at hiding his reactions, but he was evidently nervous and on edge and Jack was trying to comfort him. It struck her that Ianto would never normally be so openly tactile with Jack, not in front of her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By mid morning, Gwen had departed for the police station and Jack had set off, with Owen, for Ianto’s house. Before they’d left the Hub, Owen tested the stain on Ianto’s pillow and confirmed that it was indeed blood, almost definitely mammalian and possibly human. He’d collected a sample for further analysis and set it running before following Jack in the direction of the SUV.

The confirmation that the red stain was blood came as no surprise to Ianto, in the same way that he hadn’t been totally thrown by the contents of his dreams the night before. He’d woken up to see Jack’s head resting on the pillow next to his, shut his eyes fast and had then traced a finger down his spine to make sure it was still attached. Only then had he allowed himself the luxury of wrapping his arms around the man’s naked body and pulling him close to avenge his mutilated neckwear. 

Taking a deep breath, Ianto focused and poured Tosh’s coffee before joining her in the boardroom where they had spread out the print outs and information they had so far, including what had been left at Ianto’s house. He was glad that Tosh had been thoughtful enough to keep it out of sight until the others had left. When they returned, he knew that Jack would have spoken to Owen and that Gwen may have uncovered something from talking to his neighbours; then would be the time to put all the cards on the table and to see what game they were playing. 

“So, Jack thinks these people have got a crude device capable of disturbing the Rift enough to cause a momentary breach – big enough to let through some sort of sea monster?” Ianto asked ingenuously as he sat down next to Tosh. He smiled to himself as it stuck him that only at Torchwood could that sort of sentence be uttered seriously. 

“Yes,” Tosh looked up and smiled back at Ianto, obviously thinking along the same lines. “For a change his claim isn’t as outrageous as it may seem. If these people are linked to the names on the list you gave me, I imagine that there’s sufficient expertise to have designed something that might have been able to do that.”

“Yep,” agreed Ianto as he glanced once more at the list. “Between them they had access to the highest security level vaults at Torchwood London and the technical know-how to put it together. The facilities are another matter. The labs at Canary Wharf were destroyed.”

“How are you coping with all this, Ianto?” Tosh asked, detecting a slight hitch in Ianto’s voice as he mentioned Torchwood London and Canary Wharf.

“Would you believe me if I said I was fine?” Ianto sat back in his seat and sighed heavily. 

“No. Not for one minute.” 

“I hate it, Tosh. I hate that those bastards won’t go away. I think they’re still targeting the Hub. I’m terrified that they’re still hellbent on ruining Jack and taking Torchwood from him to pursue the aims and objectives of an organisation that deserved to go down in flames. I’m afraid that they’ll kill all of us to get to him and it scares the shit out of me thinking what that will do to him.” 

Ianto stopped talking as it struck him that he’d just put his fears into words and couldn’t take them back. But the look on Tosh’s face spoke of support and understanding. He knew she wouldn’t let Jack know just how badly this was affecting him. 

“We’re not going to let that happen, Ianto, not without fighting back. OK?”

“Yes, Tosh. You’re right, but I can’t help but think we’re missing something.”

It was bothering him. It had been since the chess pieces had first started appearing. There was something from the past that was eluding every attempt he made to recapture it. But it was there, taunting him from his subconscious, a link that would allow him to make a connection and it just wouldn’t co-operate. The trouble was that he had spent such a long time burying his memories of working at Torchwood One; they were deeply interred, as effectively as if they were encased in lead lined caskets, a fate not shared by those whose lives had been prematurely ended that day. He shuddered involuntarily. 

“Ianto, are you alright?”

“It’s OK, Tosh. Someone just walked over my grave…”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice long chapter for Boxing Day.

“Bloody hell, Jack, I can’t believe you’ve never watched The Godfather,” muttered Owen, shaking his head in disbelief as he walked through the front door of the innocuous looking terraced house in the Cathays area of Cardiff. 

“That’s pretty much what Ianto and Tosh said. Back to the point – I think that what we’re most likely to find are more chess pieces if they have called.”

“How’s Ianto taking all this?” 

“Not as well as he makes out,” replied Jack with a heavy sigh. 

Jack was glad that he’d had the chance to talk to Owen, he’d be relying on him to keep an eye on Ianto. There were some things that Ianto had said the previous day that had bothered him, he’d sounded defeated, almost on the verge of suggesting that his removal from Torchwood would resolve the entire problem. Jack could have challenged him at the time, but had opted for reaffirming his need for Ianto, instead of embarking on a row concerning the absurdity of that notion. He’d rather give Ianto a reason to live than try to argue with him why he shouldn’t give up his life in some misguided sense of loyalty.

Owen waited patiently and observed the fleeting emotions that Jack tried to suppress, but were all too visible in his demeanour and in his eyes.

“In other words, these bastards are getting to him badly,” Owen stated rather than asked. “That’s why you didn’t want him coming back here.”

“Whatever they’ve done, he doesn’t need to see it. I’ll check upstairs, you check the living room and kitchen.”

Owen was less familiar with Ianto’s home than Jack was, but even he could tell that something wasn’t right as he entered the kitchen. He couldn’t imagine for one minute that the obsessive-compulsive streak in Ianto would allow him to leave anything out, let alone two half-drunk cups of coffee on the table. He frowned as he spotted something floating in the murky brown liquid.

“Jack, get your arse down here, now!” Owen bellowed, not taking his eyes off the kitchen table. 

The sound of Jack’s boots thundering down the narrow wooden stairs echoed through the house.

“What is it?”

“Did you and Ianto stop for a cuppa before you discovered the head in the bed?” Owen pointed at the kitchen table.

“No – there was nothing out of place in here.” Jack recalled kissing Ianto in the kitchen before they made their way upstairs, but they had definitely not had anything to drink. “Those weren’t there when we left.”

“So, I take it those aren’t marshmallows floating in there. Do you think they’re what I think they are?”

“Yeah – they look like they’re plastic and they’re floating. Tip them out in the sink.”

Owen picked up the two cups, noting the wet ring marks left on the pine table and winced, even he would be annoyed by that. Ianto would hate it. He passed one of the cups to Jack and they carefully poured the liquid away, leaving behind a chess piece in each – a bishop in one and a knight in the other. 

“OK, do they have any special insinuations that I’m missing?” demanded Jack, not to be left out of the loop this time.

“You’d have to ask Ianto if there’s any film noir where the heroes are drowned in cold coffee. But, it doesn’t ring any bells to me.”

“Not a pawn this time.” Jack frowned. “It was Ianto’s idea that the knight represents me – so who’s the bishop? Can’t be you – you’re not exactly a model of good Christian living.”

“Hey – have you forgot who defeated death in the hospital? And what’s more, weevils worship me. I reckon that makes me more religious than you’ll ever be!”

“Fine by me, I’d rather be a knight than a bishop anyway. Here take it-” 

“Is this something written on the bottom of it?” Owen peered at the felt cloth on the base of the chess piece and could vaguely make out something written in pencil.

“Let me see,” asked Jack , holding out his hand to take the bishop from Owen. “Just numbers – eight and zero in what looks like a heart and then a dash and zero eight. What the hell does that mean?”

“Shit – it is about me. Fucking bastards. I was born in 1980 – Valentine’s Day would you believe? And the other date refers to 2008 … you know what that means?”

“It means they know more about you than we thought and that this was prepared for us to find. Damn – they’ve been watching us. That’s the only way they’d have known that it would be you and me here this morning.”

“So, they must have set this up in the time it took you to drive here. That gives us a narrow time slot. We need Gwen to get her mates to start asking questions sooner rather than later.” 

“Agreed – I’ll get onto her. Bag those pieces and finish checking upstairs.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oblivious to the latest discovery, Tosh and Ianto were sharing some re-heated leftovers when the phone rang. On hearing that the call was from the Harbour Master, Tosh flipped the speaker button so they could both hear what he had to say. They listened intently as the man provided vital information about the Brenhinnes Du. Apparently, it had been moored up at the Cardiff Bay Marina overnight, near Ferry Road. The Harbour Master had just checked it out, but it appeared to be unoccupied. The crew of the boat moored alongside had reported seeing three men come ashore that morning. 

After thanking the man for the information and advising him to stay away from the yacht and leave it to the authorities to deal with, Ianto turned to look at Tosh, his eyes pleading with her to agree with him.

“We should go and check it out.”

“Jack would want us to wait-”

“What if it leaves before he gets there?” said Ianto, a hint of desperation in his voice. “We’re much closer. It’s just down Ferry Road – it would only take us minutes to get there.”

“How about a compromise? Why don’t we let Jack know what we’re doing? Then we can go and keep watch on it until they can meet us.”

“OK, I’ll call them and let them know where we’re going,” agreed Ianto, ready to accept Tosh’s sensible suggestion. “You alright driving? I’ve still not got a bloody car.”

“No problem. I’ll go grab my keys, you call Jack and meet you in the car park.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen found Jack in the kitchen staring at the empty cups on the draining board, rubbing his face.

“You just been talking to Gwen?”

“Why? Do I look that bad?” Jack had just explained to Gwen, at length, about the chess pieces and had his ear bitten off for not having given her all the facts beforehand. 

“Yeah, that and Teaboy couldn’t get through to you.”

“What? Ianto tried to call?” Jack spun around, looking distraught. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing’s wrong. They’ve had a call about the boat. It’s docked, or whatever you call it, on the marina. Tosh and Ianto are going straight there to keep an eye on it and they’ll meet us there.”

“What? That’s –” Jack blustered.

“Standard operating procedure I think you’ll find,” Owen interrupted, pointing out to Jack that their colleagues were not doing anything particularly reckless. “They’re not going alone and they’re not going to approach the boat or any blokes getting on or off it until we join them.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it. Come on, let’s hurry.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did you manage to speak to Jack?” asked Tosh as Ianto got into the passenger seat of her car.

“Couldn’t get through to him – Owen said he was trying to get in touch with Gwen, so I told him what we’re doing.” 

Ianto adjusted the passenger seat to allow room for his legs and then fastened his seat belt.

“What was his reaction?”

“He swore a lot – said that at least Jack couldn’t kill him, and that any injuries that he inflicted on me would be my own fault and not to expect the good drugs.”

“Oh, good. So, they’ll meet us at the Marina?”

“Yep – that’s what Owen said. Oh yes and that he wasn’t getting on any more ‘fucking boats’.”

“Such a charmer.” Tosh chuckled quietly to herself, imagining just how Owen would have sounded, death hadn’t made him any less foul-mouthed and grumpy.

As she drove over the inlet of the Bay, they both looked out to the left, wondering which of the many yachts bobbing up and down on the water was the one they were looking for. Tosh turned off the A4232 and took several right turns until she was driving down the service road towards the small promontory of land. They could see a cluster of jetties to which gleaming white yachts and spruce looking motor boats were moored. 

Instead of parking in the main car park, Tosh drove through the boatyard and tucked her car in between a couple of upturned boats covered with heavy blue tarpaulins. She turned the engine off and leaned across Ianto to open the glove compartment to grab a pair of binoculars. It was very quiet at this end of the marina, there was little or no obvious activity and all they could hear was the rattling sounds from the tops of the masts as the wind caught them and the rhythmic caws of gulls on the look out for food. Ianto pointed in the direction of a wooden boardwalk, at the end of which was a yacht with the dark hull that Gwen had described. Focusing carefully, Tosh could make out the letters ‘es’ followed by ‘Du’, the rest was obscured by other boats, but she was certain that it was the one. All they had to do now was to wait for Jack and Owen. 

“Do you think anyone’s aboard?” asked Ianto anxiously.

“I can’t see anyone from here and, before you suggest it, no, we’re not going to go and find out. Not until the others turn up.”

“Let’s hope Jack is driving – they’ll be here sooner if he is.” Ianto looked at his watch yet again.

“I don’t know about that, Owen’s a demon driver-”

“Less so since being dead I think. They should be here by now. As long as there wasn’t anything in my house-” Ianto looked at Tosh wide-eyed, it hadn’t occurred to him that there may have been something to keep the two men from heading for the marina straight away.

“Call them and find out,” suggested Tosh. “They may have got stuck in traffic.”

“That’s odd,” Ianto scowled. “My comm. unit seems dead – how’s yours?”

“Nothing at all –” Tosh scowled, her thoughts immediately going to electronic blocking devices and reasons why they would be used. “This isn’t good. We need to get out of here.” 

“Agreed.” Ianto was not going to argue with Tosh – he knew from experience that her instincts were always reliable. “We can meet Jack and Owen on the service road.” 

Tosh set aside the binoculars and turned her key in the ignition, but nothing happened. There was absolutely no response. 

“Shit – that’s being electronically jammed as well,” Tosh unbuckled her seat belt as she turned to yell at Ianto. “Get out!”

But as they both pulled on the door handles, seeking an exit from the car, they heard the ominous sound of the locks being activated remotely. They were unable to override the release mechanism. 

“We’re trapped,” Ianto stated the obvious as he turned around in his seat so that he could kick with both feet against the door.

“Yes, but why?” Tosh hammered on the door handle to no effect whatsoever. 

It was then that the rear window rolled down a few centimetres – just enough for a small canister to be catapulted onto the backseat of the car. A smoking projectile which gave off dense white fumes that quickly filled the interior of the car. The window then silently rolled up to seal them in with the gas.

“Oh fuck!” swore Ianto, as he tore his jacket off and clambered between the front seats to get into the back of the car. 

Ianto wrapped his jacket around the canister, trying desperately to contain the gas and reduce the effects it was having on them. They were both coughing harshly, the gas rasping their throats and stinging their eyes. Tosh held a sleeve over her nose and mouth trying to filter the air, as she wrenched open the panel on the steering column with thoughts of hot wiring her own car. Behind her, the fumes were making Ianto’s eyes stream as he tried unsuccessfully to protect Tosh from the effects of the gas by using his own body a shield. As he draped himself over his jacket on the back seat, his grip on the canister was loosening as was his hold on consciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The screech of tyres startled the gulls as the SUV pulled in behind Tosh’s car. Jack and Owen had been growing ever more anxious on the way, as neither Tosh nor Ianto were answering either of their calls. 

As they ran over to Tosh’s car, they discovered that it was empty. Jack couldn’t believe they wouldn’t have waited for him to arrive. He was beyond furious. Jack started to storm off towards the boats, ready to tear a strip off both Tosh and Ianto, when he was stopped in his tracks by Owen whistling at him.

“Oi – get back here a minute! I don’t think they went willingly!”

“What?” Jack spun around, not wanting to hear what Owen was telling him.

“Ianto’s jacket is in the back seat – so unless they were making out together, something’s wrong!”

Automatically they took one side of the car each, it was then that Jack smelt the last traces of a gas, one that made his nose itch and his stomach turn. It smelt like nerve gas. 

“Gas? If there’s any chance that could be toxic let me go in first,” Owen stated simply. “We haven’t got time to wait for you to revive."

As Owen pulled open the passenger door, Jack stood back impatiently. That’s when he saw the two pawns tied together with a piece of string and left dangling under the rear-view mirror.

“Oh my God.”

“Oh shit…” Owen echoed Jack’s sentiments he saw what he was looking at. He handed him a scrap of paper that had been left for them to find on the passenger seat and watched on as Jack’s face crumpled. The note left for them left no room for misinterpretation. 

**ADVICE WHEN PLAYING CHESS: NEVER DISPATCH YOUR PAWNS UNLESS YOU’RE WILLING TO SACRIFICE THEM.**


	15. Chapter 15

The rocking motion made Tosh feel nauseous and she wondered if it was a side effect of the gas she’d inhaled. She coughed involuntarily, her lungs still irritated. Then she realised that the reason that the room seemed to be rocking was that it was moving up and down gently with the swell of the waves. She was in a boat. 

As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkened cabin, she could tell that she was lying on a narrow bunk, which was wider at the head end than at the foot end. Her hands were tied behind her back and her leather jacket was missing. She slowly rolled over onto her other side so she could see around the inside of the cabin. In the gloom, she could make out the figure of Ianto on the bunk opposite hers, it looked as if he was still unconscious. That didn’t surprise her, he’d inhaled more of the gas, having thrown himself over the gas canister in a vain attempt to spare her its effects.

“Ianto? Wake up! Please?” she whispered urgently.

But there was no movement and she couldn’t see his face as he was facing the side of the boat.

Tosh wriggled off the plastic-coated mattress and crawled across towards her friend. Kneeling up beside him, she headbutted him in the back repeatedly until he shifted slightly.

“Ouch … Jack stop it … not again… not yet…” Ianto’s voice was hoarse and croaking, but Tosh could make out what he was saying. On any other occasion, she would have teased him mercilessly, but matters were far too serious. She needed to get him to wake up.

“Ianto!”

“Tosh?” 

Ianto shook his head to clear the cobwebs, he was confused. Was he drunk? What the hell was he doing in bed with Tosh? For one mortifying moment he wondered if Jack had actually persuaded him to fulfil yet another of his fantasies? Then it all came back to him as his awareness increased. The soreness in his throat and the crustiness around his eyes from where they’d watered so much reminders of the gas. He wanted to rub his face, but couldn’t, his arms were restrained behind his back. Groaning loudly, he rolled over to face Tosh, who was sitting now at the side of the narrow bench he was lying on.

They took in each other’s appearance silently, knowing that they probably were equally dishevelled and rough looking. Both of them had eyes red-rimmed and crusted with the dried pale yellow residue of the tears that had tried to flush the irritant chemicals away. Tosh’s hair was no longer neatly brushed, but sticking out in clumps. Neither of them had their jackets and it wasn’t warm, which meant they were both beginning to shiver. 

“Where are we?” asked Ianto, as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness.

“I’m pretty sure we’re in a boat. My guess would be the Brehinnes Du.”

“Fuck. Jack’s going to kill us.” 

Ianto struggled to sit up and blinked rapidly in an attempt to dislodge the sediment from his eyes.

“I hate to say I told you so, but –” Tosh pushed herself up off the floor and shuffled onto the bench next to Ianto.

“I’m sorry, Tosh. This is all my fault. I promise I’ll get you out of here-”

“How? No more heroic headbutting please, not on my account.” Tosh rested her head on Ianto’s shoulder companionably, wanting to provide some form of comfort. “This time we escape together, right?” 

“That’s a deal and I’ll try not to get myself nearly filleted this time.”

“That would be a good idea, although I doubt if we’re up against cannibals this time.” Tosh shuddered at the memory, although she knew they had both changed since that occasion. Ianto had been through a lot since then, as had she. 

“Have you heard any noises?” Ianto whispered softly. “Any indication that we’ve got company?”

“Nothing – shall we investigate?”

“I’d say we’ve got nothing to lose – but that would be tempting fate, wouldn’t it?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gwen was angry – but she wasn’t sure where to direct her anger. She was annoyed with Tosh and Ianto for walking, or driving, into a trap. She was furious with the people who’d taken them. But, she was also angry with Jack for not having told her more to begin with – she could maybe have seen something they’d missed, something that would have stopped Ianto and Tosh from being taken. 

Owen was leafing through the paperwork Tosh and Ianto had left strewn across the board room table before setting out. He was idly fidgeting with a plastic chess piece while doing so. Neither Gwen nor Owen dared say a word when Jack slammed down the receiver on the old-fashioned telephone and glared at it.

“It’s gone. Disappeared. Nobody’s seen a damn thing – and, conveniently, the CCTV in the boatyard was out of commission all morning.” 

Jack hated the feeling of inertia when there wasn’t anything tangible to chase down so he could threaten it or kill it. He was fighting the urge to either cry or hit something, which meant that he had ended up biting his lip. He tasted the blood in his mouth and thought of Ianto and Tosh, and hoped they were still alive. If they weren’t, he would hunt down and kill whoever had taken them.

“Well, if we weren’t sure there was a connection before, we know there is now for certain,” Owen stated the obvious as he added his bishop to the accumulating collection of chess pieces that were now ominously arranged next to a blurry picture of a dark-hulled yacht.

“What have we got?” Gwen asked. “The car – what did you find inside, Owen?”

“It looked like someone was trying to hot wire the ignition – but the key was still there.”

“That just doesn’t make sense.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off a headache that was building in intensity.

“Perhaps the key wasn’t working – you said they weren’t responding to your calls. Maybe their comms were blocked?” suggested Gwen. “Jack, didn’t you say that the reason the cameras on Ianto’s house didn’t pick anything up was because of some sort of jamming signal? Maybe it was the same thing?”

“Possibly, but that is not good news,” Jack shook his head as he pondered the implications. “If they have a device that can override Tosh’s electronics, we’re really in trouble. Owen – the canister in the back of the car– any progress with that? What was in it?”

“A variant of the type of nerve gas the Russians used in the theatre siege that time. Nasty stuff. Looks like Ianto tried to block the gas by wrapping his jacket around it.”

Jack could well imagine Ianto trying to protect Tosh by putting himself in more danger, he’d done it before. _Idiot. Brave, stupid idiot._

“How the hell did that thing get in the car in the first place?” Gwen asked. 

Gwen didn’t want to think of her friends choking on the fumes as they lost consciousness, but she needed to figure out exactly what had been done. They needed to understand their enemy better if they were to stand a chance of finding their colleagues.

“I’ve no fucking idea,” Owen scowled as he recalled looking around the car at the scene. “There were no holes in any of the windows, so unless these bastards managed to remotely wind down a window, lob it in and then wind the window up again-”

“I bet that’s just how they did it, Owen!” exclaimed Gwen. “If they can control electronic devices – that wouldn’t have been difficult, would it now? What do you think, Jack?” 

“What the hell did they think they were doing?” Jack muttered darkly. “I thought I’d trained them better.”

“Jack, they had no way of knowing it was a set-up. They hadn’t even left the car,” Owen spoke up, defending Tosh and Ianto. “Those bastards are watching us, all of us. They knew that we’d gone to Ianto’s house and they probably knew that Gwen was out as well. What’s bugging me is that call from the Harbour Master-”

“Timed so that only Tosh and Ianto were here? You know what I think of coincidences. Gwen-?”

“I’ll check up on that.” 

“You’re right, Owen,” Jack growled angrily. “That call came in when the only people here to respond would have been Tosh and Ianto. Damn, that makes me think they were deliberately targeted. Whoever took them, wants both of them.”

“What the hell is going on, Jack?” asked Gwen, terrified for the fate of her friends. 

“I have no idea and that scares the crap out of me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Any attempt to explore their prison was curtailed by the sound of a small motor boat coming up alongside and someone coming on board. They sat still and quiet, leaning into each other for mutual support. The sounds of three sets of feet could be clearly made out. Then followed the distinctive rattling of keys as someone unlocked the door to the cabin they were being held in.

As the door opened outwards, a tall man entered the cabin, so tall he had to duck as he came in. He took a seat on the mattress that Tosh had woken up on. To begin with it was only possible to make out the silhouette, and that was obscured by a long coat that wrapped around his legs, but as their eyes accommodated to the improved lighting, they could make out a face. It wasn’t a friendly face by any means, long, dark hair was scraped back in a pony tail that revealed a scarred countenance that was made all the more unpleasant by the bitter expression that twisted the thin lips into a grimace. It may have once been a handsome face, but time and the ravages of violence had taken their toll. A deep, reddened scar ran across one side, from temple to jawbone, through the eye socket and probably accounted for the fact that the eye on that side of the face didn’t blink. The other eye was a dark brown, so dark the pupil wasn’t visible, so it wasn’t possible to gauge the emotion that lay within. 

“Ianto Jones, it’s been a while.” 

The man’s voice was soft, bearing a slight Irish accent, but it bore none of the warmth normally associated with that intonation, if anything it had an icy undercurrent. 

“Of course, you won’t remember me. We made sure of that. But trust me, if we ever get the chance, we’re going to get reacquainted and then those memories will just come flooding back.”

Ianto was unable to speak. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end and his gut instinct was to fear this man. That ‘something’ at the back of his mind was scratching like rats in a wall, desperate to break free. He was terrified of what it might be. Tosh could feel him trembling and moved closer trying to shore him up against this, as yet unnamed, threat.

“And Ms Sato – your assistance will be most valuable.”

“Go to hell,” spat Tosh.

“Been there already, my dear.” Their captor bestowed Tosh with a smile that would not have looked out of place on a shark. “But I’d be delighted to share the experience.”


	16. Chapter 16

The tall man sat back and smiled broadly. It was the smile of a predator. 

“I’m afraid I have an advantage over the pair of you, knowing more about you than either of you do about me. For a start, Ms Sato, I happen to know that you’re a bit of a technological genius. That sonic device you built before you even joined Torchwood was a work of art. Even Harkness recognised that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tosh responded grimly. 

Apart from Jack and UNIT, the only people who knew about that sonic device had been the ones who’d kidnapped her mother and forced her to steal the plans and construct it in the first place. Those people had been completely ruthless and dangerous, and it suddenly occurred to her that their captor had links to them.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. For now.” 

Tosh shrunk back as the man reached over and patted her on the knee. He left his hand in place and Tosh couldn’t help but notice that the long fingers were adorned with several ornate rings, all containing the distinctive twists of Celtic knots.

“And as for Ianto here, I know a lot more about him than you do, Ms Sato. He has secrets even he doesn’t know about.”

“Who are you?” demanded Ianto. “I don’t know who the hell you are and any secrets I once kept from my colleagues are out in the open now.”

“That’s what you’d like to believe.” The man in question smiled ominously at Ianto, before leaning closer and placing a hand on each of their shoulders pushing them closer together. 

“So, you two are close, are you? Good friends? Maybe more? But no, I doubt it. After all, you only have eyes for one man these days, don’t you, Ianto?”

Ianto refused to answer, sensing that there was more to this interview than met the eye. He could feel his palms sweating and his mouth was dry, as if his body was recognising a danger that his mind had forgotten. 

Without warning, the man leapt to his feet and struck Ianto viciously across the face, a painful, backhanded blow, the bony knuckles bruising his cheekbone and the large silver rings cutting into the flesh. The force would have knocked him over if it wasn’t for Tosh sitting next to him. She turned to look at Ianto with concern, seeing the deep cuts filling with blood which began to trickle down the right-hand side of his face.

“You didn’t have to do that-” Tosh rounded on Ianto’s attacker, her fury overwhelming her fear.

“On the contrary, when I ask a question, I expect an answer. But, you know what? I already know the answers to those ones. I bet Harkness is really pissed off right now, losing the cleverest of his little gang. Whatever will he do?”

“Is that a question you want an answer to?” Tosh spat out, not wanting him to hit Ianto again. “Because if it is, I can tell you that he will be hunting you down and that he’ll make you wish you were dead.”

“My, aren’t you the feisty one, Ms Sato? I like that in a woman.” He reached out and stroked her thigh, his mouth twisted in a lascivious leer.

“What do you want us for?” Ianto spoke up, wanting to distract the man’s attention away from Tosh.

“I could be coarse and vulgar. Discuss the possibilities of a threesome, but somehow I don’t think you’d be too co-operative. Although you are both still tied up-” 

“Don’t you dare lay a finger on her-” warned Ianto, not liking the way that their captor kept looking at the hemline of Tosh’s skirt.

“Oh I have other uses for Ms Sato for the time being, although you never know. As I was saying before she’s quite the technical mastermind I do believe.”

From the depths of one of the outer pockets of his coat, the man drew out an antiquated looking object, circular cogs and wheels, with odd projections, made of brass. It looked very similar to the rift key that Tosh had given Tommy to use when he’d returned to his own time, and certain death, to seal a breach in the Rift. Tosh swallowed hard, not letting on that she recognised the object for what is was, but she couldn’t take her eyes from it as he placed it deliberately on the seat next to him.

“You are going to help us refine this device of ours. It needs calibrating. You have the knowledge and experience to perform the necessary calculations. So far we’ve only managed to open windows between the present and the very distant past. You wouldn’t believe what’s flown through from prehistoric times.” He then paused to smile directly at Ianto. “But then again, I bet Ianto would.” 

Ianto paled suddenly as the image of their pteranodon came to mind, not in the Hub, but flying about an abandoned warehouse. For some reason, the thought made him feel sick to his stomach.

“I won’t do it,” stated Tosh defiantly. She was becoming increasingly concerned at the way their abductor was interacting with Ianto, as if he knew him. She was worried about how he had implied that he’d wiped himself from Ianto’s memories. 

“I thought you’d be reluctant to volunteer your services. Don’t worry, we have ways to persuade you.”

“Leave her alone!” yelled Ianto, the threat to Tosh being sufficient to break through the terror that had settled upon him.

“That’s very noble of you, Ianto. But completely misguided. You see, you’ll be the one damaged if she doesn’t cooperate.”

“Don’t do it, Tosh. Whatever it is he wants, don’t do it.” Ianto’s voice sounded as if it was bordering on hysterical, even to him, but his internal alarms were demanding to be heard.

“Ianto?” Tosh was struggling to slip free from the tight ropes that held her hands immobile behind her back. The situation was getting worse by the minute and although she wouldn’t willingly place Ianto at risk, neither could she facilitate a madman having access to a working rift manipulator. 

Her desperate fight for freedom was brought to a halt as she heard laughter from the stranger. She looked up in time to see him take a capped syringe and a small vial of clear liquid from an inside pocket. He shook the vial vigorously to disperse the white sediment that had settled at the bottom of the container. 

“What’s that?” demanded Tosh. 

“I can’t possibly tell you what it actually is, that would spoil the surprise.” The tall man slipped the cap off the syringe and inserted the needle through the permeable lid of the vial, and slowly took up a few millilitres of the liquid. “But apparently some people find this highly addictive. It has been claimed that once a person has had enough of this injected into their veins they can’t live without it. Literally …”

“You bastard – you can’t give that to Ianto!!”

“That’s up to you, Ms Sato. Will you co-operate or not?” The man moistened his upper lip with his tongue, revelling in the discomfort of his captives.

“Yes … I’ll look at it and see what I can do. I’ll need to see how it was set up on previous occasions… check the parameters …” Tosh bluffed, thinking she could at least buy time if she agreed to look at the device. She didn’t have to come up with anything that would actually help their enemies. She could make it look as if she was doing something, anything as long as it stopped him from injecting the contents of that syringe into Ianto. 

“Tosh – you can’t!” protested Ianto.

“It’s OK, Ianto. I’ll do it.” She reached an elbow out and nudged him gently, trying to let him know that it was a ruse on her part. The slight returned pressure reassured her that he had understood her ploy.

“Good girl! That’s the sort of answer I was hoping for. But you’ll get to know that I’m not a trusting sort of a man, so I’ll be taking some insurance out on that promise of yours.”

Before they could react, he darted forward and stabbed the syringe into Ianto’s biceps, making him cry out in pain. 

“Sorry about that, Ianto. Intramuscular hurts like hell, but I didn’t think you’d sit still and let me inject it into a vein. Give it a few minutes and you’ll begin to enjoy the effects.”

Ianto was already beginning to feel light-headed and detached. Although he knew that he was still being talked to, he could no longer take in what the other man was saying. He watched on, unable to intervene, as the tall, vaguely familiar man stood up and pulled Tosh away from him by her arm, pushing her out through the door. Her mouth was wide open as if she was calling out to him, but he couldn’t make out the words, although he thought he saw a tear roll down her face, very slowly. 

As Tosh disappeared from sight, the man returned to collect the mechanical device from the opposite bunk. He pushed Ianto back onto the bunk, until he was lying on his side and leaned over him, lowering his lips to Ianto’s ear to make sure he heard what he had to say.

“It’s Patrick. Remember me now?”

The door to the cabin was slammed shut and the light extinguished. The boat rocked violently as it was deserted. The shouts of Tosh went unheard as she was shoved into the motorboat alongside, which sped away towards the shoreline. 

In the darkened cabin, the rocking of the boat at the mercy of the waves felt like the world being tipped up and shaken roughly until all the hidden truths fell out. As deeply hidden secrets came flooding back, Ianto felt his head spin and his existence turn inside out, as he relived a time he’d been forced to forget.


	17. Chapter 17

The wind was picking up again as the tide was flowing back in, up the Bristol Channel and bringing chillier air with it. Tosh wished she knew what they’d done with her leather coat, she wasn’t dressed for the outdoors at all. She shuddered, feeling the cold and anxiety creeping into her bones. The tall man with the scarred face had left one of the other men behind on the yacht with Ianto and although she had tried to listen in to the instructions he had been issued, all she caught was something about taking in a bucket. That had made her even more fearful for Ianto’s safety, but there was nothing she could do. 

As the boat that she was travelling in grew closer to the shore, and further from the Brenhinnes Du, Tosh continued to worry about Ianto. She wished she knew what he’d been injected with. There had been such a malicious expression on that man’s face as he had carelessly discarded the used syringe and hauled her out of the cabin. She tried to memorise what it looked like – a white powder, barely soluble by the looks of the precipitate at the bottom of the vial. That would suggest a saturated solution, which just didn’t bode well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto had been too overwhelmed by dizziness to be able to struggle against the man that came into the cabin to untie his arms, he was too confused to even consider attempting to escape. He vaguely wondered why a plastic bucket had been set up on the floor next to him. However, he didn’t have to wonder for long as his stomach clenched with a spasm of pain and nausea. He groggily managed to sit up in time to grab hold of the bucket before vomiting violently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tosh could see they were heading between two breakwaters and then moving towards a small harbour on the left-hand side. It looked as if deep water channels on the right-hand side led towards docks. She thought it looked like Barry – on the side close to Barry Island. Old warehouses and deserted buildings loomed amongst rusting debris and abandoned boats. It was beginning to get dark, the sun had set and the lights were coming on around the small buildings at the far end of the harbour. She swore under her breath, frustrated that she couldn’t figure out any way of getting in touch with Jack. 

“I can tell what you’re thinking – looking for a way of escaping. Don’t bother. There’s no point.” Patrick leaned across to whisper to Tosh. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. Now, listen carefully, I’m going to untie your hands – but if you try anything stupid, it’ll be Ianto that pays for it.” 

As Tosh felt her hands being freed, she clenched her teeth to bite back a response. After the pins and needles faded, she was prompted to get to her feet and climb onto some crumbling stone steps on the side of the man-made inlet. The man who had sat silently operating the outboard motor had gone on ahead and held out a hand to help steady Tosh, but she refused to accept any assistance.  
Once on dry land, Tosh turned and confronted the man whose threats made her blood run cold.

“Who the hell are you?” Tosh demanded.

“You can call me Patrick. Not that it’s my real name, but it’s what folk call me.”

“That’s not what I meant – who are you working for?”

“That would be telling,” replied Patrick as he took hold of Tosh’s arm in a firm grip and steered her in the direction of a derelict warehouse. “You never know, you might get to find out. But not tonight.”

“Why have you brought me here then?”

“We’ve got some equipment stashed away inside. I expect you’ll need access to some of it to calibrate the manipulator. You’ve got two hours to get that thing to work. Then we return to Cardiff. I rather fancy a bit of a light show on the Bay.”

“There’s no guarantee that I can do that –” Tosh shook her head rapidly, she’d hoped to avoid actually doing as he asked.

“Really? I’d have thought your friend’s welfare would be all the guarantee you needed.” 

Patrick made a show of rolling back his sleeve to look at his watch. 

“In about three hours time he’ll be needing another injection. If you don’t do as I ask, you can go back and watch over him as he goes into withdrawal – and trust me, that’s not going to be a pretty sight. Alternatively, you can do your magic and come back to the boat with me to look after him. I’m sure he’d appreciate your company.”

“What the hell have you given him, you bastard?” Tosh already had her suspicions and felt that the more she could find out the better chance Owen would have of treating Ianto.

“That’s a secret, darling.” Patrick tapped the side of his nose. “It’s something of a speciality we’ve been developing. Bit of a prototype to be honest. I’ve been curious to know what effects it would have at that concentration.”

With one more sinister smile, Patrick pushed Tosh into a darkened interior of the abandoned warehouse. She just hoped that Jack and the others were looking for the Brenhinnes Du, it was their only hope right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

However, Jack wasn’t looking for the Brenhinnes Du. He was sitting in his office. To all intents and purposes it may well have looked as if he was studying the various print-outs and reports that lay scattered in front of him. His elbows were propped on the desk, his hands clasped, pressed to his lips as if in deep contemplation. However, the words and images on the pieces of paper were meaningless blurs to him. The only thing that he could focus on was the scrap of silk he clutched in his fist, his eyes closing to allow him to concentrate on the faint scent that drifted from the fabric. It was as if he desperately wished he could find Ianto by inhaling his scent and following an invisible trail. He bitterly lamented the fact that his lover was no longer safely tied to his bed, out of danger and where no one could harm him. This time he would make sure those bastards paid for this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto’s mouth was dry and he wondered if there was any water to drink. He tried to sit up, but he couldn’t summon the energy to move his legs, they felt so damn heavy he thought maybe they’d been weighted down to stop him moving. It was so dark that he could barely make out anything beyond the pale, round shape of the bucket.

Nothing would come into focus, either in his surroundings or in his head. But he was aware that there was something missing … if he could work out what that was …Tosh! Tosh was missing … No, not quite, she’d been taken. 

Confusion set in once more as he struggled to remember who had taken her. It was so tempting not to try to think, it made his head hurt. Then it came to him, slowly seeping through, images, snapshots of a man, a tall man, he had to stoop to get through the door. Thin, the long coat didn’t disguise how lean he was. An image of slim hands, with long fingers, the glitter of silver – knots interlocking and unwinding around the knuckles. Ianto slowly reached up to his own cheek, tentatively touching it with trembling fingertips, the skin warm, but tacky with sticky trails of blood. 

Closing his eyes, Ianto searched for more images. Then he found one of the man’s hair – it was long, dark and tied back. Then the face smiled at him - a malevolent gleam as it fitted into place. Only one eye looked at him, it was dark, almost black and contained not a scrap of warmth. Across the other was a long, deep scar … Patrick. _Oh fuck, it was Patrick! And he’d got Tosh._

The name reverberated bleakly through his skull, cushioned by the cotton wool that seemed to be tightly packed inside his head. What the hell was Patrick doing here? He was back. Ianto had forgotten all about him. How could he have possibly forgotten that man? 

Ianto knew that he had to get back to Jack. He had to tell him everything, even if it was the last thing he ever did. He expected that Jack would probably want to execute him – just like before. Ianto just hoped he would be able to get Jack to listen to what he had to say first.


	18. Chapter 18

“Jack?” asked Gwen timidly, knocking on the door to Jack’s office, even though it was open. She wanted to give Jack time to compose himself before barging in. 

Owen had tipped her off to tread carefully and that was a shock that he would be the one telling her to take it gently. From the doorway, she could see Jack blinking rapidly as he turned his head around to face her. In his hand, she could just make out a scrap of blue and grey striped fabric. As he stood up, he tucked the remnant of Ianto’s tie into his trouser pocket. Gwen bit her lip, imagining how he must be feeling. She knew that both Ianto and Tosh meant a lot to him and that he was particularly worried about Ianto’s state of mind. That’s what Owen had told her anyway and it struck her that the doctor had also been especially concerned about how Ianto would be coping.

“What’ve you got, Gwen? It had better be something good.”

She walked across to stand next to the desk, her hands on her hips, in a way that was reminiscent of Ianto, but the stance was totally different. Gwen looked as if she was about to launch into a lecture, whereas Ianto would have had that look of mild confusion, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say, or how to broach it. The difference was essentially that whereas Ianto asked Jack, Gwen told him. 

“Right, I’ll start with the bad news –” Gwen looked anxiously over her shoulder towards the door, as if waiting for back up. “It wasn’t the Harbour Master that called in the report on the Brenhinnes Du. Apparently, he was called out to investigate a suspicious looking oil slick in the water at around the same time that the call came through here.”

“Damn, that means that the whole deal was a set up. Bastards.” Jack had suspected that Ianto and Tosh had been deliberately lured into a trap and that just confirmed it. He looked up to Gwen hopefully as she was still hovering about. “Is that it? Nothing else?”

“We’ve managed to access satellite data to track down the yacht’s movements and location up until sunset, but after that we’ve got nothing. It left Cardiff and headed westwards towards Swansea. If we make a move now, there’s more chance of finding a lead, even though it’s dark. But, if we leave it ’till morning it could have gone anywhere – we could lose all trace-”

“I get the picture – so, we're gonna need a boat then.” Jack had already leapt up from his desk and was already putting on his greatcoat as Owen entered the room behind Gwen. 

“We’ve already got that sorted – the real Harbour Master has put a patrol boat and crew at our disposal. They’re going to pick us up from Mermaid Quay and then take us wherever we want.”

“You coming with us?” asked Jack, raising an eyebrow at Owen. “I thought you said you never wanted to get on another boat.” 

“I haven’t stopped hating boats. But I figured my medical skills might be needed.” 

“I really hope not, but you’ve got a point.” Jack’s heart sank at the thought. He really didn’t want to contemplate either Ianto or Tosh needing medical attention. “If they’re still alive that is.”

“They will be, Jack,” Gwen asserted firmly, not prepared to believe anything else. “You know that – if those bastards intended to kill them, they’d have just left their bodies in Tosh’s car for you to find.”

Although harsh, Gwen’s logic was reasonable. Jack had to accept that whatever this elaborate plot was all about, it wasn’t simply a matter of murdering his team. 

“I’m prepared for virtually anything,” Owen stated emphatically. 

Owen didn’t go into details, but the bags he’d packed were bulky. Despite Gwen’s optimistic assumption that their friends would still be alive, he was in no doubt that at least one of them would be in need of medical attention by the time they found them. 

Jack led the way out of his office and into the main area of the Hub. As he reached the bottom of the metal stairs he spun around as a thought struck him.

“Aerial surveys would be useful too, even though it’s dark. Gwen – get onto the police, we need to get a helicopter out there. I want you on it. The police have thermal imaging cameras that would tell us which vessels have people on board and how many.”

“Yes, I should’ve thought of that. It could definitely speed up the search. I’ll try not to mention the UFO they chased in the summer-”

“Right. I’ll set up the Rift monitor to send remote alerts, just in case. Gwen, I don’t want you on your own at any time – understood? In fact, I don’t want you with anyone we don’t know. Get that buddy of yours to meet you and accompany you there. What’s his name? Andy?”

“Andy? Oh, I don’t know about that, he already keeps dropping hints that he’d like to work for Torchwood-”

“You can handle that, Gwen. Whereas I can’t handle any more of you going missing, got it?”

“Right you are, Jack. I’ll get onto it now, shall I?”

Without waiting for a reply, Gwen pulled her mobile from her pocket and started making the necessary phone calls. 

“That means it’s just you and me on the boat, Owen,” Jack took one of the hefty bags from Owen and glanced at the other one sitting on the floor by the cog door. “Are we taking all of this?”

“If nothing else, they’ll be freezing their arses off out there and blankets are bulky,” replied Owen, trying to downplay the fact that he was taking far more than an emergency first aid kit.

“Got it – thanks for being prepared.” Jack went along with Owen’s charade – he was just grateful that his team were rallying around so efficiently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tosh wasn’t surprised to find that the device she’d been asked to work on was very similar to the Rift key she’d given Tommy to fix the breach. It occurred to her that it may even be the same mechanism, returned to Torchwood decades ago and then recycled, modified, before being stolen from Torchwood London in the aftermath of the Battle of Canary Wharf. She tried to block that line of thought as it wasn’t helping her to remain objective. She knew that she should be able to set it so that it would open the Rift briefly as requested – but she was also working on a particular pattern that she hoped would be recognisable. 

All the time that she tinkered with the mechanism and scrawled out calculations on a note pad, Patrick watched her. He seemed to be able to sit in silence and just stare for hours on end. He reminded her of a snake, coldly observing its prey. She had to keep brushing her hair out of her eyes, desperately trying to stay focused. There would only be one chance to get this right and she had a feeling that there was more resting on this than the safety of herself and Ianto. 

“Time’s up,” Patrick announced as he tapped his watch face and stood up. “Now we head back out to the yacht and then on to Cardiff so that I can test your handiwork. If it’s not up to scratch, then I’m sorry to say that Ianto will suffer the consequences.”

Tosh was sure it would work, but the implicit threat made her blood boil. 

“It’ll work. I know what I’m doing.” Tosh hoped he wouldn’t pick up on the determination in her voice as she bit out the words.

“Oh, I know exactly how good you are. I just hope you’re not going to try anything foolish.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen briefed Jack as they walked briskly towards the quayside. They had waited on the Plass with Gwen, until she was collected by her previous colleague and was safely in a police car, headed for Cardiff airport.

“We tracked the position of the yacht that left the marina shortly after Tosh and Ianto went missing – monitored its position using defence satellite recordings up until dusk. It was along the coast to the west of here – not far from Barry Island. Stayed in one position for nearly three hours as far as we can tell, just moving slowly up and down one stretch of water, like it was waiting for something-”

“But there’s no way of telling if it’s still out there?”

“It must be hanging around for a reason – otherwise they wouldn’t have stayed there. I hate to say this, but this is looking like another bloody trap. What is it with these bastards and their fucking games?”

“I don’t know, Owen. But trust me, when I get my hands on them they’ll realise that their games are child’s play compared with the ones I know.” 

Owen took one look at Jack and realised that he didn’t want to know any more details.

“There’s our boat by the looks of it. What do you want to do, Jack? Set off now or wait for Gwen to get back to us?”

“I can’t sit back and wait, you know that. Let’s make for the last definite sighting.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tosh’s hands had been tied behind her back once more. Patrick obviously didn’t trust her enough to assume that her concern for Ianto would prevent her from making a bid for freedom. When they reached the yacht, he’d just handed her over to the man he’d left on board, before setting off with the Rift manipulator on the motor boat. She guessed that he was taking it back to Cardiff Bay to test out closer to the Rift itself. She just hoped that it would work as she intended.

After being roughly guided through the galley, Tosh was pushed unceremoniously into the darkened cabin where she had been held earlier. She heard the key turn in the lock and sounds of footsteps above and then heard the engine start up. They were moving – she could only assume that they were also heading for Cardiff. If she was going to make a move it had to be soon. As she had been led through the narrow saloon area she’d noticed a bottle of whisky and a glass on the fold up table. That meant their guard had probably been drinking, which could work in their favour. He had also left the lamp on outside their cabin, which was good news as the light spilled under the door allowing her to see in the gloom. As her eyes adjusted, the first thing she could make out was a bucket on the floor that hadn’t been there before and then the sour odour of vomit assailed her nostrils. 

“Ianto?” Tosh called out, not caring if she was heard.

In the gloom, Tosh could see that Ianto was curled up on the same bunk where he’d been left hours earlier. She couldn’t work out if he was asleep or unconscious - there was no movement. Tosh wished she could reach out and shake him, but there was no way she could do that with her hands bound. She knelt next to him and tried to listen for breathing sounds to give her a clue, but his face was pressed down into the plastic upholstery. 

“Ianto – we’ve got to get out of here,” she hissed in his ear.

“I know.” Although Ianto’s voice was slightly slurred, it was the deadness of it that bothered Tosh most. He didn’t sound in the least bit animated. There was something very wrong, but she didn’t have the time to ask him. 

Ianto turned his head slowly in Tosh’s direction and tried to lift his arms, but was unable to move them. It took a few moments to work out that the guard must have returned to tie his hands again at some point. He couldn’t remember when, he’d not bothered trying to move for what seemed like hours. But realising that Tosh had returned, he knew that he had to make the effort for her. Whatever fate he believed he deserved, he owed it to Tosh to help her escape.

“Sit up here… next to me … let’s see if we can get your hands free,” Ianto whispered softly.

Tosh levered herself up off the floor and sat with her back to Ianto. She felt the warmth of his breath on her wrists as he tackled the tight knots with his teeth, loosening them sufficiently for her to twist her hands free from the rope. 

“Ianto, I’ve got an idea … listen carefully.” 

As Tosh untied the ropes that restrained Ianto, she described her plan and was grateful that he nodded when prompted. She cursed the fact that she couldn't afford the time to check out his condition. His reactions seemed awkward, as if he was moving in slow motion. She didn’t know what the hell had been done to him, but she knew it was up to her to get them out of there; otherwise they’d both be as good as dead when Patrick returned.


	19. Chapter 19

“Help! Help!” screamed Tosh, kicking at the door. She had to make sure she could be heard above the sound of the engine. “He’s dying! Oh my god, I think he’s dying!”

She continued frantically screaming until she heard the engine sounds change as the boat slowed down. Even then she didn’t stop calling out for help – her voice loud and verging on hysterical.

The shrillness of her cries ensured that the man left guarding them had no choice but to bring the boat to a halt and come down below to investigate. Tosh could hear his heavy-soled boots clumping on the steps that led down from the deck into the galley area. Then followed the clatter of keys evidently dropped on the floor, accompanied by a lot of vitriolic swearing. 

The door was yanked open and light flooded the cabin as the switches were flicked on.

“What the fuck’s going on?” An understandably angry looking man burst into the room waving his gun from Tosh to Ianto and back again.

“I think he’s dying!” Tosh was standing to the side of one of the bunks, her hands behind her back. She was staring at Ianto, who was writhing on the floor, apparently wracked with convulsions.

The guard smirked cruelly, and shoved her out of his way so that he could get a better look. He laughed to himself as he heard the petite woman whimper pathetically and perceiving no threat, he tucked his gun into his belt as he kicked at Ianto’s legs to see if he was capable of reacting.

“You’ve got to do something!” pleaded Tosh. “Patrick will be pissed off with you if you let him die. He wants him alive – you know he does!” 

As the man leant forward to get a better look at Ianto, curious rather than concerned, he didn’t notice as Tosh nimbly climbed up onto the bunk behind him and before he knew what had happened there was something constricting about his neck, squeezing his windpipe. He tried to grab hold of it, but it was too thin and it was pressing in around his throat. It was getting tighter and he was gasping for breath. He couldn’t get his fingers under it and his eyes were beginning to water. As he struggled ineffectively to push the woman off him, he was taken aback to find the man on the floor rolling over out of the way before joining forces with his attacker in forcing him to the ground, face down.

“Let me?”

“It’s OK, I’ve done this before…” 

Those were the last words he heard before passing out from lack of oxygen.

“Shit. Is he… dead?” muttered Ianto as he slumped back, away from their victim.

“No. Just unconscious. We need to tie him up and gag him before he comes around. Here, use these.” 

Tosh passed Ianto the stockings that she was holding and then lifted the padded seat to fetch their ropes that she’d hidden from view.

“I can’t believe you just garrotted someone with your stockings,” Ianto looked shocked as he held up the sheer, nylon hold ups, absently admiring the lace tops. It occurred to him that it was almost sacrilegious to defile them on the thug that lay crammed into the narrow space between the bunks in the tiny cabin. 

“You’re not the only one with hidden depths,” Tosh smiled as she crouched down to remove the gun from the waistband of the guard’s trousers.

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Ianto stated as he made sure the knots he tied were tight. Nylon stockings made very strong restraints. That made him think of Jack and what may have been their last night together. He wasn’t sure whether that was a comforting thought or not.

As Ianto tied off the ends of the stocking he’d used as a gag, Tosh searched the man’s pockets. She was pleased to find both keys and a mobile phone. It was while she was on the floor that she caught sight of the disposable syringe that Patrick had tossed to the floor after injecting Ianto. Tosh picked it up cautiously and then found the cap to make it safe. 

“Ianto – can you put this in a pocket?” Although Tosh didn’t want to ask him, there was nowhere in a skirt and blouse outfit to tuck away a syringe. 

“Yep – is it what I think it is?” Ianto gingerly reached out and held the object between his forefinger and thumb, recalling the immediate impact of its contents.

“When we get back to the Hub, Owen can analyse it. Find out what the hell you were injected with.” Tosh attempted to smile reassuringly as Ianto took the syringe from her warily and slipped it into his back pocket. “How are you feeling now?”

“Like crap. Feel like I want to throw up, but there’s nothing there. A bit out of it, sleepy to be honest. But I’ll be fine… really.” Ianto forced a smile as he shivered, which did nothing to reassure Tosh. 

Tosh frowned, knowing full well that if Ianto was admitting to feeling that bad, then chances were he was actually feeling far worse. She looked him in the face for the first time in the light and saw that his eyes looked strange, bluer than usual. Then she gasped as she figured out what was different, his pupils were tiny, almost pinpoints. 

“Do you think we can work out how to drive this thing?” Tosh asked, holding up the set of keys she’d found and shaking them.

“No idea. Not sure I could drive a car right now. But you’re clever, you’ll work it out.”

“We have to try – once Patrick finds out what his Rift manipulator does now, I have an idea he’ll be in a hurry to talk to us again.” Tosh grinned at Ianto as he slowly assimilated what she was telling him.

Ianto couldn’t help but smile genuinely this time, despite the fear gnawing away inside. He was proud of Tosh’s rebellious spirit. He was tempted to tell her what Jack needed to know about Patrick and then get her to escape while he stayed behind and dealt with the Irishman, but it was his responsibility to tell Jack in person. He also owed it to him to confess to the sins that had been buried in his mind, the depth to which they’d been hidden not making him any less guilty. Letting himself get killed by Patrick would be the coward’s way out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuck!” 

“What is it?” Owen was mildly shocked by the exclamation from Jack. He rarely swore unless the situation was really dire.

“Rift activity – a spike in the Bay. Again!”

“Fuck. Can’t we ignore it, just this once?”

“We can’t – it could be anything. It’s our job. Torchwood has to protect the public from whatever falls through the Rift. Damn it!” 

“Bollocks, Jack. If it’s another bloody sea creature and either of them end up dead because we followed a red herring, I’ll kill you.” Owen turned around to the man steering their boat. “Turn about, mate – we’re heading back to Cardiff!” 

As the boat started a lazy arc, turning back in the direction from which it had come, Jack pulled out his PDA to doublecheck the nature of the Rift spike. The alert only gave a signal that there was activity, not the precise nature of it. He frowned as he studied the schematic that flashed up on the small screen. Then he replayed it. There was something amiss.

“Hang on – stop!” Jack yelled out, before pulling Owen physically to his side. “Look at this – there’s something odd about this one. It’s coming from the Bay, just like the one yesterday, virtually the same co-ordinates, probably triggered from the water again. But, it’s not as strong, nothing could come through this. More of a blip than a spike – like a misfire.”

“Shit, you’re right. Hold up, go back and pause it – there!” Owen jabbed his finger at the irregular pattern. “Look at that, it’s not a single spike either – it looks like pulses – one long and then two short.”

“That’s not normal – you know what it looks like? Morse code!” Jack had used Morse code in his time with the RAF and remembered the primitive code.

“What the fuck?” Owen couldn’t get his head around the idea of the rift spitting out Morse code signals, even if it was being screwed around with by a bunch of psychotic Torchwood rebels.

“Let’s see if I can remember. One dash, two dots - the letter D. That makes no sense…” Jack frowned.

“What’s that then, D for dinosaur?”

“No, I’ve got it wrong. There’s a short gap between the dash and the dots – so one dash codes for the letter T and two dots… that’s an I.”

“T and I? Tosh and Ianto? You’re fucking kidding me. Is that a coincidence? Are you sure you’re not so desperate you’re clutching at fucking straws?”

“Yes, I am desperate, but think, Owen! The facts - we know these bastards have their own Rift manipulator and then they target Tosh. She is our expert on Rift activity – they know so much about us, they’d know that.” Jack was becoming increasingly animated. “They must have got her to work on it and instead of helping them she sabotaged it. This is just the type of thing that she’d do! She’s sending us a message.”

“Fuck it, if that’s what she’s done, those bastards will be really pissed off – which means they’re in even more danger! We need to get back to Cardiff now!”

“No. We keep heading out towards Barry. I’m not falling for that trick again. My guess is that the purpose of that demonstration was to distract us. They were trying to divert us … let us know they’re still out there and at the same time draw us away from the location of the yacht, and Tosh and Ianto. So we ignore it, Owen – we head for the last known position of the Brenhinnes Du.”

“I hope you’re fucking right,” Owen growled, not convinced by Jack’s logic and worried sick about what could be happening to his friends.

“Trust me – this is what my instincts tell me is the right decision. I’ve not been paying proper attention to my gut feelings on this and that’s why Tosh and Ianto were put in danger in the first place.” Jack had adopted his no nonsense tone of voice, the one that masked how badly he actually felt about the situation. Then he yelled out yet another instruction to the crew of the patrol boat. “Turn about again! Head for Barry!”

The crew shook their heads, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘bloody Torchwood’ and then the boat cut a curving arc of white spray in the water as it headed westwards once more. 

“Gwen? Can you hear me?” Jack yelled into his Bluetooth. “There’s been minor Rift activity in the Bay. I’ll send you the co-ordinates. Get there in the ’copter and let me know what boats are in the vicinity. If there are no yachts matching the description of the Brenhinnes Du I want you to follow our signal and head out towards Barry. Check out any other vessels heading this direction in a hurry and let me know that too. Got that? Good.”

“So, your intuition tells you that the Rift spike was deliberate, but it misfired because Tosh screwed it up for them.” Owen held out a hand to hold Jack in place while he checked that he’d read the situation the same way. “Which means that whoever set it off is now on their way back to where Tosh and Ianto are being held, probably fucking pissed off and wanting to make someone pay. It’s going to be a race to see if we can get there first, isn’t it?”

“Yeah – that sums it up.” Jack took a deep breath, knowing exactly what Owen was getting at. “I hope you’re armed and ready to use force, because if it comes down to it, we shoot to kill this time. You gonna have a problem with that?”

“None. Apart from the obvious one that it gives them a quick and relatively painless exit.”

“Good point, but if either Tosh or Ianto are in imminent danger we kill those bastards.”

Jack’s phone began to ring. The number was unknown and he would have discounted it as a wrong number if it wasn’t for his vow to pay better attention to his gut instincts. 

“Hello – who is this? Who?” Jack grabbed hold of Owen’s arm as if using him as an anchor. “Tosh?!” 

“Tosh?”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An angsty one for New Year's day - sorry about that! May try to post something more cheerful later to compensate! 
> 
> Happy New Year to everyone , thank you for the kudos and comments - all very gratefully received. Let's hope 2017 has some good surprise in store to make up for the horrors of 2016. I may write awful angst, but at least in fanfic, there's a happy ending available courtesy of a keyboard.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tosh terminated the call. She had kept it brief, the phone’s battery was running low and the last thing she wanted was to lose all means of communicating. As it was she had to leave it switched on so that Jack could track the signal and pinpoint their position. The Brenhinnes Du was drifting with the current. Once the engine had been turned off there was nothing keeping the boat on course, not that they knew what that had been in the first place. Lights from the shore on the port side suggested that they were heading east along the coast; either that or they had crossed the Bristol Channel and were in fact heading in the opposite direction. Tosh wasn’t entirely sure and Ianto was just confused. 

Tosh shivered, it was cold on the deck, the clouds overhead threatened rain and the wind was bitingly cold. Neither she nor Ianto had jackets or coats and they were both chilled to the bone. They had looked in vain for blankets or some type of clothing, but found nothing. They had locked the door to the cabin where their erstwhile guard lay trussed up and didn’t think it wise to risk going back in there to look for warm clothing. Perhaps they should have stripped him of his jacket before tying him up, but it was too late for that now.

It didn’t take Tosh long to work out how to turn the engine on and how to steer. The trouble was that it was dark and although they could see lights along the shore, they had no idea where they were or whether they were headed towards Jack or away from him. The cloud cover prevented them from gaining any clues from the night sky. They decided it would be best to try to stay in one place, that way it would be easier for Jack to find them, even though it also effectively made them sitting ducks if Patrick reached them first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Any news from Gwen?” Jack had noticed Owen duck his head as if trying to listen to his Bluetooth earpiece. 

“Yeah – she says there’s nothing much out in the Bay apart from the usual party boats. So unless the booze cruises are a cover for an evil mastermind, you were right not to head back to Cardiff.”

“Tosh said that they’re off the coast somewhere, but she doesn’t know where. My hunch is that they’re west from here. Did Gwen say if there was any sign of anything heading out this way apart from us?”

“Nothing they could spot. So it’s either ahead of us, or they’re approaching from another direction.”

“Damn. I take it the ’copter is heading towards our position now?”

“Yeah, should be passing us soon.”

“Come on, come on.” Jack muttered urgently as he gripped the railings tightly. He was glancing around, searching the skies for the lights of the helicopter and the seas for signs of the Brenhinnes Du. 

“Tell me again what she said,” Owen asked, wanting to distract Jack and also to reassure himself that he hadn’t imagined Tosh calling them. 

Jack went over once more what Tosh had told him, about the man who called himself Patrick and the derelict warehouse near the docks at Barry. The fact that her and Ianto were on the yacht and that there was only one guard, but that they’d incapacitated him. He was proud of them, proud of Tosh, sabotaging the device that was being used to tear open the Rift and relieved that they’d been able to overpower their guard. He’d asked if he could speak to Ianto and that’s when Tosh’s voice had wavered. She had told him that it would be best if he waited until he caught up with them. Then she’d asked if Owen was with him and the relief in her voice when he’d said yes, the way she said ‘thank God’ under her breath, that gave him more reason than ever to worry. 

A bright beam of light cut through the clouds and reflected off the water as they heard the sounds of the rotor blades and the motor approaching rapidly over the water behind them. Before they knew it, the helicopter shot past them and continued on its way, the searchlight skimming the waves as it scanned to and fro across the sea.

“Please find them,” pleaded Jack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tosh had settled for steering the boat so that it moved in a large circle, trying to remain in line with a distinct pattern of lights on the shoreline. Ianto was sitting on the floor by her feet, unable to keep standing. He’d muttered something about feeling queasy and she suspected that it wasn’t only the rocking motion of the yacht that was making him feel unwell. He had his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms tightly wrapped about them as if holding on for dear life, trying to suppress the involuntary shaking that was only partly a consequence of the chilly winds. 

“Why don’t you go down below and sit in the galley?” Tosh reached out a hand to stroke his hair.

“No, I’ll stay here. With you…” Ianto managed to say through chattering teeth.

“They’re on their way, Ianto, just hold on.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jack – they’ve spotted a yacht going around in circles that sounds like them!”

“Great – anything closing in on them?”

“There was one motor boat heading in their direction, but as soon as it saw the ’copter take up a hovering position above the yacht, it moved away again. Gwen wants to know if they should follow it?”

“No. Tell her to stay put and keep watch over the yacht ’till we get there.”

Despite the knowledge that the men who’d abducted Ianto and Tosh were slipping through their fingers, Jack didn’t want to take any chances now. He needed them safe before he’d risk pursuing their captors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t long before the patrol boat drew alongside the yacht, which had slowed down and come to a halt as soon as the helicopter had shone its searchlights onto the deck. Tosh had waved up at the light, dazzled to the point of temporary blindness, but pleased to have its company. 

Two crewmen from the Harbour Authority patrol boat boarded the Brenhinnes Du first to secure lines between the two vessels, holding the yacht safely in place so that Jack and Owen could leap across. 

Tosh rushed to Jack and hugged him, in her bare feet she barely reached his chest, but he lifted her up to squeeze her tight, asking if she was hurt at all. The warmth of his coat around her was a welcome respite from the cold wind and she clasped her hands behind his neck, relishing the comfort and the chance to finally relax, knowing that their ordeal was over at last. As Jack set her down on her feet again, Owen appeared holding out a blanket that he tucked around her shoulders as he checked her out for injuries. As Jack let the doctor take care of Tosh, he caught sight of Ianto and his heart sank. 

Jack dropped to his knees on the deck – he was by Ianto’s side in an instant. He was shocked to see the state he was in. He’d half expected an eager reunion or maybe a shy embrace, what he hadn’t expected was to find his lover barely conscious and shaking. 

“Hey there. You OK?” As soon as Jack asked, he knew it was a monumentally stupid question. He gently lifted Ianto’s chin so that he could get a better look at his face and then saw the streaks of dried blood, the cuts and the dark swelling under his right eye. Swearing that he’d make the bastard who’d done that pay, it occurred to him that there was other less visible damage inflicted upon Ianto that was possibly more serious. 

“Owen – get over here, now.” 

“What the fuck?” Owen crouched down next to Jack and pulled a torch from his pocket to get a better look at Ianto. 

“Patrick injected him with something –” Tosh explained, not surprised to have two pairs of eyes look to her in shock. “I don’t know what it was. He said it was highly addictive. I think he was planning on more than one dose.”

“Oh shit.”

“Jack – look in Ianto’s back pocket. The syringe used on him was thrown on the floor - there should be enough residue left in it for Owen to test.”

“That’s brilliant, well done, Tosh,” Owen exclaimed with genuine praise. 

However, as Owen lifted Ianto’s eyelids to gauge pupil response, he had an idea what he’d find in the syringe. Both pupils were very constricted and didn’t respond to the torch he was shining in them. Holding out a scanner Owen wasn’t surprised to note that both heart rate and breathing were depressed. Tosh caught his eye and the look they shared was enough to know that they had both come to the same conclusion. But they both realised that it wasn’t something that Jack needed to hear, not yet. He was best off doing what he was trying to do – comforting Ianto.

“Ianto? Can you hear me? It’s Jack – you’re safe now.” 

Jack had sat himself down on the deck behind Ianto, bracing the semi-conscious man between his legs so that he could hold him close whilst Owen checked him over. He held one arm loosely about his waist and carefully stroked his hair back from his clammy forehead, trying to connect with him. He could feel the tremors that wracked the younger man’s slight frame and tried to still them, afraid of what they might mean.

“Jack?” mumbled Ianto, confused and wondering if he was hallucinating. 

However, the familiar warmth of Jack’s body pressing against him and the unmistakable smell of something uniquely ‘Jack’ convinced Ianto that he was not imagining things. On one hand, he was glad that they’d been found and that he’d be able to warn Jack about Patrick. On the other hand, he figured that his time with Jack was drawing to a close. 

Ianto had convinced himself that as soon as he told Jack what he’d remembered, that he would hate him and want him dead. Only vaguely aware of Owen’s torch shining in his face, Ianto shut his eyes tight, hoping to keep the bitter tears from spilling free. Nevertheless, one did manage to escape and trace its way across the bruises on his swollen cheek. A traitorous tear that was stopped in its track by the brushing of Jack’s thumb that gently gathered it up and transferred it to the older man’s lips. The tenderness of the gesture broke Ianto’s heart.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, more angst I'm afraid. 
> 
> Meanwhile, today I am celebrating the 10th anniversary of my civil partnership today - only a week after JB's.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey there, you need to try to stay awake, can you do that for me?” Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto and pulled him even further into his coat, trying to do something to stop the younger man shaking. 

“I’ll try…” Ianto gritted his teeth against the waves of nausea and the tremors that he couldn’t control. He needed to hang on. He had to talk to Jack.

“Owen, were there any more blankets stowed away down there?” Jack called out anxiously. “I can’t seem to warm him up and he’s shivering worse than ever.”

Owen shone his torch once more into Ianto’s face and noted the perspiration on his brow.

“Yeah – and sweating at the same time, that’s not good.” Owen shook his head. As he went through the checklist of symptoms in his head, he became more and more certain of the diagnosis. He was also even more convinced that Jack was going to kill someone for sure. “I’ll go fetch some more. Just keep him calm if you can.”

Tosh crouched down next to Jack and took hold of one of Ianto’s hands.

“It’s OK, Ianto. Patrick’s not coming back, not now. You’re safe, he’s not going to hurt you again.”

Jack tensed, picking up the fact that there was something going on that he wasn’t aware of, especially as he felt Ianto’s whole body tense up at the mention of the name ‘Patrick’. 

“Who is this Patrick?” Jack demanded, wanting to know as much as he could about whoever it was who had drugged Ianto and struck him hard enough to bruise. All he knew so far was that he wanted to tear him to pieces.

“Bad news … he’s…” Ianto tried to say more, but a spasm in his guts stopped him in his tracks, causing him to pitch forward in pain.

“Later, when we get back home. Tell me then. OK?” Jack hushed Ianto, stroking his head gently, bearing in mind Owen’s instructions to keep him calm. 

However, Jack caught a look on Tosh’s face that suggested there was more that she wanted to tell him as well. He curbed his aching desire to have answers, figuring that it wasn’t the time to debrief either Tosh or Ianto. He should be grateful to have got them back so soon and for them both to be alive, although not unharmed. He made a silent oath that retribution would be exacted. 

Owen returned with an armful of blankets. He caught the intense look on Jack’s face as he stared at Tosh and thought for a moment that she had told him what she thought Ianto had been drugged with.   
“Here you go, more blankets, as requested. Let him go for a minute and I’ll tuck it around his shoulders.” Owen prompted Jack to release Ianto so that he could drape a blanket around Ianto’s shoulders. As Jack reluctantly released his grip on Ianto’s trembling frame, he took another blanket and tucked it around his legs. 

“Thank you.” Ianto mumbled as he allowed himself to sink under the weight of the blankets, knowing that he’d have to wait a little while longer before he was able to talk to Jack alone. He shut his eyes and let his head fall back onto Jack’s chest.

“What have they done to him?” asked Jack, looking across Ianto’s head at Owen, getting increasingly worried. He couldn’t bear thinking what could have happened if they hadn’t got there in time.

“I could make an educated guess,” Owen sighed, relieved that Jack wasn’t paying close attention to the tell-tale symptoms. “But I’d rather test the contents of that syringe first. There’s no way I can treat him until I’ve got a better idea what it was that bastard gave him to start with.” 

Jack slid a hand into the back pocket of Ianto’s trousers and extracted the plastic syringe. He held it out with obvious revulsion, resisting the temptation to hurl it into the sea. 

“I’m sorry – I didn’t have my jacket and there aren’t any pockets in my skirt,” Tosh muttered apologetically.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Tosh.” Owen reached over and grabbed hold of the syringe, holding it in front of the torch to see how much residue remained. “Without your quick thinking, we wouldn’t be able to work out what he’d been given until I could do a blood test. I’ve got the kit for testing toxins with me.”

“Let me help with that.” Tosh shuffled across to assist Owen, but he held up his hand and shook his head. 

“Jack, I can do this when we’re under way. We need to get him back to shore as soon as fucking possible.”

“The patrol boat then,” stated Jack grimly. “It can get us back quicker.” 

Jack hooked his arms under Ianto’s and clasped his hands across his chest, whilst Owen took hold of him under his knees. Carefully, they lifted him up and transferred him from one boat to the other. Once they had him settled in the covered wheelhouse, Jack issued instructions to the crew of the patrol boat, requesting that they take charge of the yacht and impound it on behalf of Torchwood. The skipper of the patrol boat took one look at Ianto and asked if he could offer any medical assistance, as all his crew were trained for search and rescue missions. Jack appreciated the offer, but politely rejected it, explaining that Owen was a doctor and would take care of his teammate. 

Two of the patrol boat’s crew stayed aboard the Brenhinnes Du, with orders not to open the front cabin, but to let the police arrest the man held inside as soon as they got to Cardiff. Jack had the sense to know that if he got his hands on that man now, he’d be in no state to answer anyone’s questions in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack was torn. As leader of Torchwood, he wanted his whole team locked away in the Hub for their own safety and his peace of mind, whilst part of him just wanted to get Ianto back and to concentrate on fixing whatever was wrong with him. He had no idea what he had been injected with, but the effects weren’t wearing off, if anything they were becoming more severe. He was curled up on his side, cocooned in blankets, his head in Jack's lap. 

Owen hid his reactions well when he wanted to, but extreme cases always had the power to render chinks in his armour. Jack could see one appearing, watching on as Owen fussed over Ianto, he’d seen him check his pulse more often than seemed necessary, both manually and digitally. There was that look on the doctor’s face, the clenched jaw, that gave away his abhorrence of what he had to deal with in unpleasant cases and it was there now. Jack could tell that Owen had a good idea what had been done to Ianto, but for some reason didn’t want to tell him yet and that was a very bad sign. It meant that he wanted an escape route when he did break the news. That settled it as far as Jack was concerned.

“I want everyone to stay in the Hub overnight. That includes Gwen and Rhys. I don’t give a damn what she says –”

Ianto stirred at Jack’s outburst and couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of an enforced sleepover. He knew precisely what Gwen’s reaction would be.

“No fucking chance of that happening,” he muttered to himself, not realising that Jack was hanging onto his every word, able to focus immediately he said anything at all. The soothing caress to his swollen face alerted him to the fact that he had been heard.

“OK, smartass, you know everything I guess and I figure you’re right about that too,” Jack whispered in his ear, before addressing Tosh and Owen. “Alright then, I’m a reasonable guy, I’ll compromise. Gwen can go home. However, I don’t want you going anywhere on your own, Tosh– if possible I’d like you to go back to Gwen’s for the night. You can keep an eye on each other and make sure Rhys is out of danger, too.”

Tosh was going to object, but Jack fixed her with a steely glare and shook his head.

“No objections allowed. You either go back to Gwen’s or all of you will come back to the hub and we’ll set up camp beds in the boardroom if I have to. But I am not taking any more damn risks with any of you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Jack.” 

In fact, Tosh was grateful. She wouldn’t have asked for anyone to stay with her, but she was feeling in need of company now. The adrenaline that had kept her going all day was running low and she felt drained.

“Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The helicopter followed them provided a reassuring presence and a well-lit route through the choppy waters back, heading for the barrage and Mermaid Quay. 

Gwen had held off bothering Jack despite wanting to know that her colleagues were safe. She had tried to speak to Owen, but he had cut her short telling her in no uncertain terms that he was ‘too fucking busy to chat’. So when Tosh eventually called her from the radio on the patrol boat she found herself sighing with relief. 

“Gwen? We’re heading straight for the Hub on return. Ianto’s been injected with a drug of some sort and isn’t doing too well, but Owen says he can treat him better than any hospital for now. You know what he’s like.”

“Shit, he really does believe that he can do better in a Victorian, tiled autopsy bay with a few alien gizmos than all the teams of specialists in Cardiff Royal Infirmary. Wanker.”

“Yes, but he’s usually right, Gwen.”

“I know, I know … but this isn’t a dead body, Tosh. It’s Ianto.” Gwen gazed out of the window at the boat below and frowned.

“Look, if it’s OK, Gwen, can I stay at your place tonight? Jack was going to try to force us all to stay at the Hub-”

“Bollocks to that – I’m going home to Rhys tonight, whatever Jack-bloody-Harkness might think-”

“That’s more or less what Ianto said-”

“He’s talking then?” Gwen asked urgently. “Still conscious?” 

“Not quite, but what he mumbled was enough to convince Jack to drop that idea.”

Gwen smiled sadly, her relationship with Ianto was complicated, but there were times when he understood her far better than Jack ever would. She heard Tosh saying something about not wanting to be an imposition and then realised that she hadn’t replied to her question yet.

“Of course you can stay at ours, you’re always welcome, Tosh.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The journey back to Mermaid Quay was uneventful, and for that Jack was extremely grateful. He had sat with Ianto in his arms, the other man barely responding to any questions or enquiries, he just lay there, tense and shivery. Tosh had told Owen that he had been sick whilst she hadn’t been on the yacht and again after they’d overpowered the guard. Owen surmised that he was likely to be dehydrated and got Jack to try to persuade him to slowly sip some water. 

Owen knew there wasn’t anything else he could do until he had a definitive identification of the drug administered and the levels in his bloodstream. He took Tosh to one side, ostensibly to get her to help him analyse the syringe contents, but also to ask questions out of Jack’s hearing range. He managed to ascertain that there had been white sediment in the vial that suggested a saturated solution and from what Tosh could recall there had been about 2ml in the syringe when it had been plunged into Ianto’s biceps. That gave Owen something to work on and with Tosh’s help he took the portable spectrophotometer from one of the bags, plugged it into the laptop he’d brought and then, after re-suspending the contents of the syringe in some sterile water, he carried out a quick analysis of the drug. 

“Fuck it – I wish my guess hadn’t been right.”

“What is it, Owen?” Tosh whispered.

“I think you already worked it out – it’s a variant of diamorphine.”

“Oh shit, Jack’s going to-”

“Jack’s going to do what?” 

Owen and Tosh looked around sharply to catch Jack’s eyes burning into them, their heated exchange having alerted him to the fact that they had worked out precisely what Ianto had been injected with.

“You know what it is. Tell me now.”

The coldness of his voice cut through the loud engine noise.

“It’s not conclusive,” Owen tried to delay the inevitable. “This just identifies the category as an opioid of sorts-”

“Spit it out, Owen. What did that bastard give him?” Jack’s face was contorted in fury.

Owen took a deep breath, despite having no requirement for oxygen and bit the metaphorical bullet.

“From what I can tell it’s a designer version of diamorphine.”

“Owen?” demanded Jack, wanting to hear it in plain English.

“Fuck it! Heroin – it’s heroin, Jack. He’s been pumped full of fucking heroin.”

“That bastard’s dead.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have edited out quite a bit of the 'medical science' I originally included here. It was all sound, but made it heavy going. 
> 
> Angsty x

The tension stayed at breaking point until the crew of the patrol boat tied up alongside Mermaid Quay. One of the crewman jumped onto the quayside and held out a hand to help Tosh onto dry land. She watched on as Jack and Owen half carried Ianto off the boat between them, his arms flung loosely around their necks, held securely in place by hands that held him tight. As they got back onto firm land, Owen relinquished his hold on the younger man to Jack, who effortlessly scooped him up, blankets and all, into his arms. Ianto’s head fell back onto Jack’s chest, his arm still draped around his neck. Without a word being spoken, they made their way along the boardwalk, Owen and Tosh falling in behind Jack, who led the way like a man possessed.

Tosh’s bare feet were freezing and she was beginning to regret having left her shoes on the Brenhinnes Du as she gingerly stepped around puddles and stray pieces of litter. She’d kicked off her kitten heels in order to take off her stockings to use as a weapon, to Ianto’s bewilderment, and had then left them off. At the time, it had been more practical on the drifting boat not to be staggering about a wet deck in heels. But she was starting to regret abandoning her favourite pair of Moschino’s. The blanket around her shoulders did little to keep her from shivering, not when her feet felt like blocks of ice. She looked up from watching where she was putting her feet when she heard hurried footsteps approaching and was surprised to see Rhys Williams running to catch them up. He was flanked by two policemen. 

Jack and Rhys acknowledged one another with the briefest of head nods. However, their eyes met long enough to communicate the seriousness of the situation. Rhys looked over to where Tosh was standing.

“Hiya, Tosh love. Gwen said I should meet you here. Said you were going to be stopping over at ours tonight. Andy’s going to drop her off at our flat after picking her up from the airport.”

“Thank you, Rhys. But I really should go back to the Hub first, I –”

“No, Tosh– go with Rhys. I bet you could do with a hot shower and something to eat.” Jack caught sight of the hesitation in Tosh’s face and the way she looked at Ianto. “Don’t worry, Owen and I will take good care of him.”

Turning on his heel, Jack resumed his march towards the Tourist Office. The others trailing behind him.

“Shower and something hot to eat?” Rhys checked as he fell in step next to Tosh. “No problem. How do you fancy lasagne? Homemade. Gwen always says I make too much.”

“That does sounds wonderful. Thank you.” Tosh smiled at Rhys, touched by his down-to-earth gesture of hospitality and reminded of how hungry she was. She would have to remind Gwen how lucky she was to have someone like Rhys in her life. It occurred to her that the ex-policewoman took too much for granted. 

“Off you go, doctor’s orders,” Owen piped up from behind, noticing how drained Tosh looked. He suspected she was exhausted and ready to drop. “Get warmed up and let someone look after you. I’ll check you over in the morning.”

Tosh stopped to turn around and give Owen an awkward hug.

“Yes, Owen.” As she held him close, Tosh whispered in his ear: “Look after them.” 

Rhys and his escort turned toward the Plass where the police car had been left. Tosh followed them and waved good bye to Jack and Owen. 

“Make sure you take good care of her,” Jack instructed Rhys. “Don’t let her out of your sight until she’s in your flat.”

“You have my word on that, Jack. Anyway, Gwen has made sure these gentlemen are going to take us all the way to the door.” 

Rhys shook his head, wondering how it had come about that his wife had taken responsibility for his safety.

“Don’t resent that – believe me, these people are ruthless,” Jack called out as he walked on, anxious to get into the Hub as soon as possible. “I’m not taking any more risks.”

“That sounds like defeatism – never thought I’d hear that sort of talk from Captain Jack Harkness.” 

“Oh you’d better believe I’m not defeated. They’ve pissed me off, Rhys, and this time I’m going to hunt them down and make them pay.”

Rhys caught a glance of Ianto’s pale face and noted that he hardly seemed to be breathing. The way that Jack cradled his body possessively made it only too clear that whoever had done this would pay dearly. 

“Good, you make sure of that. Coming, Tosh?” Rhys held out his hand to Tosh and pulled her close to him, for warmth and protection until they reached safety.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen had thrown a clean sheet onto the stark metal trolley in the centre of the autopsy bay. That and a pillow to make it seem less like a dissecting tray and more like a hospital bed. But he doubted he’d be using it any time soon. When he got to the top of the stairs, he looked over to where Jack was sitting on the shabby sofa, Ianto across his lap. The younger man was semi-conscious again and trembling, his eyes flickering from one side of the Hub to the other, as if expecting something to come out of the shadows and pounce on him. 

Looking down at the stark white autopsy bay to the scene in the main area of the Hub, it was Owen’s opinion that the comfort of Jack’s presence would be as valuable as any medication he could provide until he knew exactly what the drug was and how it was affecting Ianto. Until then, anything he gave him could just make things worse.

Once he had drawn some blood from Ianto, Owen returned to his domain. He needed to find out how the drug had been metabolised. He focused on running the toxicology programme on the blood and set about testing a sample from the syringe with a more sophisticated piece of kit, specially adapted by Tosh, from alien technology. As he waited impatiently for the results to appear on the screens in front of him he began to jiggle his foot around and click his pen lid up and down. He counted down silently to see how long it would take for Jack to demand answers. It didn’t take long, he knew it wouldn’t.

“Talk to me Owen,” called Jack from the top of the stairs. “What the hell is wrong with him?”

“Alright, let’s start at the beginning. Heroin, is chemically similar to morphine, only it crosses the blood brain barrier more effectively and then latches onto opioid receptors on some of the brain cells. When that happens in the brain stem it can cause depressed breathing and heart rates. That’s why he’s barely conscious.”

“He’s out of it again.” Jack nodded, understanding why Ianto was still not responding. “I’ve got him lying down on the sofa with my coat over him.”

“It also blocks pain and a hell of a lot more besides. Then, with time, the effects wear off and reality rushes back in with a jolt. That’s what brings about the shaking and the tremors. He wasn’t just freezing his balls off – he was in withdrawal.”

“You knew-” started Jack, ready to accuse Owen of keeping facts from him.

“Yeah, I had my suspicions, but there was no point getting you even more wound up than you were. Trouble is, it’s likely to get worse before it gets better. With time, any withdrawal can have major physiological and psychological effects. Anything from aches to excruciating pain and mild anxiety to suicidal paranoia.”

Jack flinched at the possibility of Ianto facing the extremes of those symptoms.

“With time, you say – in other words after repeated doses. But Ianto was only injected once as far as Tosh knows. Could they have given him more when she wasn’t there?”

“I dunno. One dose really shouldn’t be so debilitating. Believe it or not, it’s used in hospitals for extreme pain relief, without any withdrawal symptoms or dependency – for fuck’s sake, I’ve dosed you lot up on morphine after weevil bites often enough.”

“For which, I am sure the team are more than grateful.”

“That’s what’s odd about this. Even considering the amount he was given and the possibility of more than one dose, his reactions are more consistent with several weeks of regular exposure to the drug.” Owen paused to absentmindedly scratch his head. “There must’ve been something in it which is causing the symptoms of withdrawal to hit so fucking soon. He’s suffering tremors, sweating, anxiety, alternating with a semi-conscious state, with low blood pressure, low pulse rate and reduced breathing rate. If this was withdrawal by an addict I’d put him on methadone – but I don’t know if that would just make this worse.”

“So what are you suggesting?” asked Jack in horror as he took in the implications of what Owen was saying. “You want to make him go through this cold turkey?”

“No, Jack. I don’t know what to do until - hang on,” Owen held his hand up to stop Jack asking any more questions. He’d heard the ping from his computer indicating that at least one of the analyses was complete. As he read the results, he winced. “Oh shit.”

“What?” demanded Jack, losing patience. 

“It’s a modified drug, it’s more persistent and that’s why withdrawal is setting in already. That bastard intended to get him addicted as fast as possible. Fuck!”

Before Jack could respond angrily he heard Ianto stirring, no doubt roused by the raised voices. He dashed back to the sofa to see Ianto leaning over the edge, retching and eventually bringing up the little water that Jack had got him to swallow.

“Sorry … shit … I’m sorry…” Ianto mumbled, mortified that he had thrown up on the edge of Jack’s coat.

“Hey, nothing to be sorry for.” Jack rubbed gentle circles on Ianto’s back, trying to soothe him. “Owen – up here! Now!”

“Looks like we can add vomiting to the symptom list,” grumbled Owen as he took a good look at Ianto. “I can give him an anti-emetic for that at least, so he can keep water down. Either that or put him on a saline drip.”

“Can’t you give him anything for the other symptoms?” 

“Trouble is that I don’t exactly keep a stock of methadone in the medicine cabinet. I’m almost tempted to give him some codeine or morphine for now, take the edge off the symptoms until we know what’s going on – then I’ll get what I need from the hospital pharmacy tomorrow.”

“You said that you could treat him better here than at the damn hospital and now you’re telling me that the medication he needs is only available there?” Jack was incensed and ready to take out his anger on Owen. 

“Yes, Jack, he is better off here. That’s unless you’d rather have him strapped to a bed in a detox ward.”

“Of course not!”

“’m still here.” Ianto reached out a hand and weakly grabbed Jack’s leg. “No hospital …please?”

“Hey there, hush.” Jack placed his own hand over Ianto’s. “Whatever you want.”

“Need to stay here… need to talk to you…” Ianto was becoming agitated and kept mumbling. “Important… must tell you… Patrick…”

“Shhh… that’ll wait for now.” Jack couldn’t deny that he needed answers, but he also needed Ianto well again. He pulled Ianto up so that he could settle him back in his lap. He took hold of the trembling hand in his and gently rubbed his thumb over the knuckles trying to soothe Ianto. “Let Owen help you feel better first, then we can talk. Then you can tell me all about Patrick.”

Ianto swallowed hard to keep the bile from rising up his throat. The warmth and comfort that he felt surrounding him was a consolation that he didn’t have much longer to cling to and, despite an urgency to spill his secrets, he selfishly wanted to make the time he had left with Jack stretch on as long as possible. After all Jack couldn’t hate him even more for taking these precious moments – could he? Ianto burrowed his head into Jack’s lap and shut his eyes, hoping the room would stop spinning.

Owen noted the way that Ianto was clinging to Jack like a lifeline and was glad that he’d not followed protocol to the letter. 

“Chances are it’s not going to be pretty, but this way it’s us looking after him and not strangers. I’m sorry there’s nothing else I can offer to help right now, but I’d rather not give him a shot of morphine unless it gets really bad. Why don’t we get him down into the bunker under your office for the night? I’ll hang around up here in case you need me.”

“Thanks, Owen.” Jack welcomed the implicit suggestion that he take Ianto to bed. There was nothing he wanted more at that moment than to hold Ianto close and keep the monsters at bay ’till morning.

“I just hope you get hold of this fucking Patrick bastard and that we get to handle him our way, with no bloody interference from the police or UNIT.”

“When I get hold of the bastard that did this, I’ll make him disappear. And trust me, there won’t be a trace that he ever existed.”


	23. Chapter 23

The small space was lit up with a muted, golden glow that came from the dimmed lighting, keeping the shadows away from the sleeping body the bed. Jack had turned the lights off completely to begin with, until he noticed Ianto becoming increasingly restless. He’d put them back on low and had been relieved to see the terrified look on Ianto’s face diminish as he glanced nervously around the tiny room. Something was scaring him and Jack suspected it went beyond the after-effects of the drugs. The fact that it probably had a lot to do with this character calling himself Patrick made Jack even more determined to make him suffer for whatever he’d done to Ianto. 

Eventually, Jack managed to coax Ianto into falling into a fitful sleep by getting him to lie on his side as he curled around him and just held him close, murmuring reassurances whenever he felt him tense up. Jack was thankful that the tremors had become less severe because of whatever Owen had given him and were now no more than occasional shudders, as if he were having vivid dreams or, more likely, nightmares. 

The soft light showed a slight sheen of sweat on Ianto’s pale brow and caught the creases as he frowned in his sleep. Jack reached out to gently run his fingertips over his lover’s face, carefully avoiding the sore looking cuts on his cheek, noting with anger the swelling and bruising that accompanied them. He had carefully washed away the dried blood and applied antiseptic cream after Owen had finished doing what little he could for their patient. The doctor had told him that the worst of any withdrawal from heroin wasn’t likely until about forty-eight hours after the last dose and Jack wasn’t sure he could stand to witness Ianto go through that kind of hell. He’d made it clear that Owen was to do anything and everything he could to guarantee that they could help Ianto come through this in one piece. 

Keeping his vigil, Jack glanced about the confines of his tiny room – the clothes he’d carefully stripped from Ianto lay in a heap on the floor, pushed against the wall. They had been wrinkled and grubby, stained in places with vomit and blood. Jack fully intended to destroy them at the first opportunity; he’d rather buy Ianto a new suit than try to salvage the remnants of one he’d been mistreated in. After carefully washing Ianto with a damp wash cloth, Jack had helped him into a clean tee shirt and some fresh boxers. Ianto had tried to insist on getting showered on his own, but there was no way he’d have been able to keep standing long enough and the risk of him slipping under the water in a bath tub hadn’t been worth taking. On any other occasion the opportunity to give Ianto a bed bath would have put a grin a mile wide on Jack’s face, but not when it was a necessity due to incapacitation rather than an option.

Jack smiled sadly as he recalled Ianto’s face when he’d sat him on the edge of the bed and he’d spotted the remnants of his ties still attached to the headboard. He’d looked as if he was about to cry, he’d bit his lip and looked so distraught that Jack hadn’t known how to react. For some reason, he’d decided to take out the other piece that he’d tucked into his pocket, the fragment that he’d pressed to his nose to inhale the remains of Ianto’s scent. He’d wanted to show Ianto what it meant to him, but was taken aback to hear the usually reserved man actually sob out loud. He couldn’t understand why and had taken Ianto into his arms to comfort him, disturbed by the flow of tears that had been unleashed by the reminder of the previous night’s passion. He wished he known what to do. 

Jack felt Ianto was stirring in his arms, restless once more. He hushed him and stroked his head noting how damp his hair was, his brow clammy with sweat. He frowned and decided he should ask Owen for advice. Ianto had barely managed to keep down a small bottle of water and if he kept sweating like this he’d become even more dehydrated. Owen had mentioned putting him on a drip and he knew that it would be best not to put that off any longer than necessary, although it would mean getting him back to the autopsy bay, which Jack wasn't keen on. He slowly slid his arm from under Ianto’s body and reluctantly got out of the bed. Before ascending the ladder out of the room, he carefully tucked the blankets around Ianto and pressed his lips to the other man’s forehead.

“I won’t be long,” he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whilst Jack had been watching over Ianto, Owen had been busy running a range of tests, using equipment that the NHS wouldn’t have access to for decades, if not centuries. Sometimes Owen felt guilty about that, the desire to cure screaming out that he could save so many lives using the technology at his disposal, but then the cold voice of reason, sounding irritatingly like Jack, reminded him of timelines and butterfly effects. But meanwhile nothing was stopping him from using his expertise, aided and abetted by alien tech, to do whatever he could to keep the non-immortal members of Torchwood alive and in one piece for as long as he bloody well could. He figured the sacrifices they made deserved some bending of the rules.

Owen spun around in his office chair, pondering the data he’d accumulated from the analyses he’d carried out on Ianto’s blood and the spectroscopic examination of the drug from the syringe. The picture being painted was an ugly one. He’d already told Jack that it could be a couple of days before the worst of the withdrawal symptoms set in. If he couldn’t do anything to alleviate those effects, Ianto was on his own. Apart from Jack, of course, who had hovered about anxiously while Owen had medicated Ianto with anti-emetics, so he could keep down fluids at least, and some analgesics to reduce the severity of the aches and pains he was beginning to experience. 

Tugging his white lab coat about him defensively, Owen wandered up to the central area of the Hub and stole a glance in the direction of Jack’s office. There was no sign of it being occupied and the room was barely illuminated by the small desk lamp, and light from the room beneath. He sighed as he made the decision to call Tosh, no doubt Gwen would give him an earful of grief for calling late, but this was something that he knew she’d be more than willing to help with. As soon as Tosh answered, he ducked back down into the autopsy bay to keep his voice from carrying, he didn’t want Jack to overhear his conversation.

“Hello, Tosh? Yeah, I’ve got some results now. Basically, what we’re looking at is a derivative of heroin specially designed to accelerate addiction. How? In a nutshell, it alters the receptors in the brain. I can’t rely on opioid antagonists to flush it out of his system, they just won’t bloody bind to the receptors and displace the drug… tell me about it… no I haven’t told Jack yet, not until I’ve got something to offer, that’s why I wanted to call you. I don’t suppose you can rig it so you can access the mainframe from Gwen’s computer, can you? Right – their security is shit? Figures, but I bet you can sort that out … that’s my girl.”

Owen grinned as he swung his chair around so that he was facing his own terminal and was pulling up all the relevant files, ready to forward them to Tosh once she’d downloaded and installed sufficient security onto Gwen and Rhys’ computer. He could hear her muttering away to herself as she swore softly about people that didn’t update their antivirus software. At one point, he even heard Gwen ask her if she needed any help, only to be called away by Rhys in the background, who had no doubt figured out that Tosh didn’t need any assistance. 

“How is he? Not good, to be honest. It’s not even like I can give him methadone or anything like that either. Yeah – I reckon you’re right, that fucking bastard was planning to use this to get control over Ianto. But what the hell could he want from him? …What? … Are you sure that’s what that bastard said? And Ianto didn’t say anything?”

Owen could hardly believe what Tosh had told him, but it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility, considering everything else that had happened. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna have to tell Jack. Yeah, I’ll do it,” Owen could hear the relief in Tosh's voice and didn’t blame her. It wasn’t something he was relishing either. “Listen up – I’ll put all the results I’ve got into Ianto’s folder on the medical data drive and then once you get access, you can read up on what I’ve got so far. I need a second opinion before I talk to Jack. What we really need is to figure out how to reverse the changes made on the neural membranes – yeah, I know how fucking difficult that’s going to be, that’s why I called you…Thanks, Tosh, talk to you later.”

Owen was sorely tempted to hit something very hard, even though any damage he sustained to his fists would be irreparable. 

“What is it that you’re gonna have to tell me?”

Owen almost fell out of his chair in shock, he hadn’t heard Jack approach him at all. Turning to see Jack’s bare feet on the steps he understood why- Jack could be quiet enough in boots, but without them he was virtually silent.

“Fucking hell, Jack! If I wasn’t dead, you could’ve given me a bloody heart attack!” exclaimed Owen, although one glance at Jack’s face was enough to convince him that any attempt to play for time was futile. “OK, how much did you hear?”

“Enough to get me even more worried than I already was. So you’d better tell me the rest. What the hell’s going on?” Jack stood with his arms folded across his chest and his chin sticking out belligerently. Even wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers, he still struck an intimidating pose. 

“It’s this Patrick bloke. Tosh said he made a big deal about knowing Ianto. She said he was gloating over something that had been done to Ianto to make sure he wouldn’t remember Patrick. Sounds like someone’s fucked with his memories – and I don’t think we’re talking Retcon. Apparently, this bloke kept taunting Ianto and Tosh thinks he was beginning to remember him.”

“Shit. What’s going on, Owen?” Jack seemed to deflate, he let his arms hang loosely at his sides and frowned. “Why won’t these bastards leave him alone?”

“You’re going to have to ask him, Jack. If those memories are coming back, he’ll be the one with the answers you’re looking for and not me.”

“Damn! He was trying to tell me!” Jack looked up sharply as Owen’s words had inadvertently uncovered a connection he’d not been aware of. “He kept saying that he needed to speak to me about Patrick. Damn!”

Their eyes met briefly before Jack turned and ran back towards his office. 

By the time Jack reached the bottom of the ladder, he could see the bed was empty.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for lateness of update. Busy week at work. Also - this one needed some brutal editing in places to bring Ianto back into character. I am now happier with the tone of this chapter. It is still angsty though.

Just before Jack was about to start panicking, he heard the flushing of the toilet and although relieved that Ianto hadn’t gone far, he was worried that he’d been vomiting again. He waited for the door to the bathroom to open, but it didn’t. He tapped on the door and called out gently. There was no answer. He tried the door and was glad it wasn’t locked. Opening it gradually, just in case Ianto had collapsed, he found him slumped down against the tiled wall, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees that were drawn up close to his chest. 

Ianto didn’t respond as Jack opened the door. He just continued staring at a cracked tile on the opposite wall, watching it so intently that he barely looked around even when the door slowly swung open. He had woken up not long after Jack had left his side, feeling bereft of the other man’s presence, which seemed to be all that was holding him together. It had been when he’d sat up to reach for the bottle of water that he’d heard voices echoing in what he had assumed was an empty Hub. 

Although Ianto hadn’t been able to make out exactly what was being said, he had picked up on Patrick’s name at least twice as the volume of the voices increased and that’s what had made his stomach turn. After making a dash for the bathroom, just in time to empty the contents of his stomach, it seemed so much easier just to slide down onto the floor to wait for the inevitable. He didn’t dare return to the warm bed – he knew he had to remain resolved to disclose the uncomfortable truth.

“Ianto?” prompted Jack, leaning over to get a better look at Ianto. 

“Jack…” Ianto paused to clear his throat and then spoke again before he lost his nerve. “About Patrick-”

“Not here – let’s get somewhere more comfortable.” Jack reached out a hand to help Ianto off the floor, but his offer was declined.

“No – here is good.” Ianto muttered morosely.

Jack crouched down and placed his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, but Ianto awkwardly shifted away from the physical contact.

“No – I can’t… you can’t.” Ianto shook his head as he stumbled over his words, knowing that if he let Jack comfort him, his resolve would crumble. 

“OK.” Jack shrugged, looking and sounding hurt. However, he complied with Ianto’s request and sat down alongside him, close but not touching, which wasn’t easy for two tall men in a tiny en suite bathroom.

“S-sorry. Please, just hear me out first.” 

It occurred to Ianto that it was just as well that he was already on the floor; it wouldn’t be so far to fall when the ground opened up beneath him. 

“I’m listening.” 

Jack could see how agitated Ianto was becoming and his concerns for his physical and psychological welfare weren’t abating.

“You need to know all of this… OK? All of it. Well all that I can remember.” 

Ianto scratched his forearms as he tried to focus, the itching was making it hard to concentrate, but he stopped when Jack reached across and stilled his hands, his face beseeching Ianto to desist. One glance at the raised red welts explained Jack’s insistence. Ianto wrapped his arms around his chest, tucking his hands out of sight in an effort to put aside the distraction. 

“It’s important – you have to let me finish. Then after…after I tell you… then you can do what you want with me… doesn’t matter then …but make sure you let me finish… OK?”

“What the hell is this all about, Ianto?” 

Jack was unable to contain his frustration. He’d never seen Ianto like this, so paranoid and insecure. He also seemed resigned to some fate that he anticipated Jack would deal out. Logically, Jack realised that part of this reaction was attributable to the drug, but there was something else fuelling the fear. 

“You’re acting like I’m going to punish you. Are you scared of me? Scared of what I might do?”

Jack reached out and grabbed hold of one of Ianto’s hands. He made sure that his grip was secure, so that it couldn’t be pulled free. With Ianto's hand immobilised, Jack could discreetly feel for a pulse, which seemed much faster than normal. The palm of Ianto’s hand was also damp. Jack knew that he needed to calm Ianto down somehow; the effects of an adrenaline rush on top of the effects of a strong opiate could only spell disaster.

“I’m not … not scared of you, Jack … not you.” Ianto leant his head back against the cool tiles and, against his better judgement, held on tight to Jack’s hand. “I know you’ll do what you have to… s’OK. I’m won’t argue or put up a fight. Just worried you’ll react first and not wait.” 

Ianto squeezed Jack’s hand to make sure he was paying attention and looking into the other’s man’s eyes he spoke the words that struck a chord of terror in Jack’s heart: 

“Just promise you won’t execute me, not until I’ve told you everything I know-”

“What the hell?” 

Jack couldn’t believe his ears and was unable to contain his outburst. He turned to look at Ianto more carefully, worried that he was having some extreme paranoid episode triggered by the drug. Owen had mentioned suicidal paranoia. He took a deep breath and tried to rein in his emotions as he continued in a less dramatic tone.

“I threatened that once, a long time ago, Ianto. But I’ve got no intentions of putting a bullet through your brain – not now. Why the hell would you think that I’d want to?” 

“Please, don’t say anything else …” Ianto placed a finger to Jack’s lips, his eyes begging him to listen. “Let me explain… for a start, please believe me when I say I haven’t deliberately hidden this from you. I swear I haven’t. I would never have kept this from you … I think he did something to stop me remembering … because the memories started coming back from when I saw him again-”

“Patrick?” Jack prompted, tightly holding onto Ianto’s hand.

“Yes,” Ianto nodded eagerly, glad that Jack had figured out what he was trying to say. “Patrick – except that’s not his real name.” 

“Who is he?”

“I don’t know … but he’s dangerous.” Ianto gulped as if trying to swallow a bitter pill. “It was at Canary Wharf… we were trapped at the bottom of a stairwell … there was smoke and screaming, the lights were out … the emergency doors to the underground carpark wouldn’t open… I thought we were both dead… then they opened and it was Patrick. He was there-” 

Ianto broke up his rambling to suddenly clutch his head as if in agonising pain. Jack automatically drew him closer.

“What’s the matter, Ianto? What is it?” Jack pleaded, desperate to understand exactly what was causing Ianto so much distress. 

Jack was well aware that there were many ways to prevent a person recalling events, from hypnotherapy to Retcon, not to mention other more drastic methods. The mind probe that he had controversially used on Beth had settings that could be used to erase memories as well as to extract them. If something with alien tech had been used on Ianto, that had suppressed specific memories of a particular individual for over two years, then the consequences of the re-emergence of those memories would undoubtedly be painful. He put an arm around Ianto’s shoulder and was glad that his attempts at comfort were no longer rejected.

“The memories are there, I can feel them … but it’s like ... like they burn if I try to get close to them… it hurts …” 

Ianto shivered with trepidation as he took the next step and forced himself to confess the facts the recently relinquished memory had revealed to him. He felt it deep in his bones that this admission would bring about the end of his relationship with the man on whose shoulder he was currently resting his head. He blinked several times, his mouth was dry and his voice came out quiet and broken as he said what had to be said. 

“It was Patrick … he sent me to Cardiff.”

“What?” Jack was genuinely puzzled, unable to figure out what Ianto was referring to.

“The only reason I came back to Wales … to Cardiff… was to use you,” Ianto’s voice was catching now, his lower lip trembling as he spoke, “– and he sent me.” 

“Explain.” Jack’s mind was racing, but he knew he had to be patient. Ianto was already at breaking point and he needed to know why. “Patrick was at Canary Wharf and then he made you come to Wales. What happened in between?”

“He told me that if I got him into the hub, he could get … I don’t know … something… oh shit, it’s gone ... but there was something he said … something you had here, and if I got Lisa here and a conversion unit… he said the process could be reversed… he told me it would be possible to undo the partial conversion… make her whole again.” 

Ianto was struggling to recall the facts, as if recalling a conversation that he’d had a very long time ago and the details had faded with time. 

“That was a lie. You know that now, don’t you, Ianto?” Jack realised how desperately Ianto would have wanted to believe Lisa could have been saved, and how cruel that bastard had been to feed him that lie. 

“Yes, yes… of course I know … but I wanted to believe … it made sense then… all I had to do was get you to take me in.”

“Didn’t you ever consider coming and asking me for help directly?” Jack had often wondered this, although in his heart he knew he wouldn’t have been sympathetic, especially not to the plight of a Cyberman. 

“He said you were a… a monster.” That word reverberated in Ianto’s throbbing skull. That’s what he’d called Jack that night. He wondered if Patrick planted the word there for him to spit at Jack in a moment of fury. “He said you’d kill Lisa … then me...”

Jack pulled Ianto closer. Patrick’s warning hadn’t been far from the truth and that hurt. That a bastard had known exactly how he would have responded to any request for help from Ianto when he was at his most vulnerable. Ianto had been right to call him a monster. 

“What did he want you to do?”

“He’d help me save Lisa … if he got inside Torchwood…” 

Ianto had started to gently rock to and fro where he sat, almost in a trance as the memories seemed to come to him, painfully if the expression on his face could be used as any indication. Jack didn’t try to stop him, not wanting to alarm him by any sudden moves. 

“I was supposed to give him all the security codes… once I was in.”

“What happened?” 

It didn’t need stating that Ianto had succeeded in getting Lisa and a conversion unit installed in a room deep in the basement of the Hub. However, the rest of Patrick’s plot had obviously not gone according to plan. 

“It was the night I wore the suit…” Ianto frowned as images came to him of his reflection in a mirror, a gaunt face in the background, partially hidden in the shadows. “That was his idea … hadn’t worn a suit since … London. The rift activity locator? He gave me that… said all I had to do was follow the signal… told me to wait for something to fall through.” 

It came as a shock to Jack that Patrick had deliberately opened the Rift back then. An unsuspecting pteranodon dragged millions of years out of its geological time zone just to bait a trap for him. However bizarre it seemed, it made more sense than Ianto luring a prehistoric beast into a warehouse with chocolate.

“All I remember… he said if I failed … then Lisa would die… it would be my fault … for not trying hard enough.” A tear slid down Ianto’s face as he delved deeper into the painful memories. “But I couldn’t do it… couldn’t do everything he wanted me to.”

“Ianto?” 

“I hated tricking you… wanted to despise you, but ... just couldn’t… your bloody hormones I guess … and you fell on me … we rolled out of the way… I found myself lying on top of you… I looked you in the eye and saw something … beneath the flirting… I saw sadness and loss … I couldn’t let him destroy you.” 

Ianto remembered how torn he had felt as he’d quickly got to his feet and walked away from Jack without looking back. He hadn’t expected to actually feel anything for the man he’d been sent to betray, let alone attraction. At that moment, he could either save Lisa or a man he’d only just met, a decision that should have been a no-brainer, but it had thrown him totally off balance. 

“What did you do?” Jack asked softly.

“I stalled… told him you were watching me…”

“Well, that was true,” Jack admitted. He’d been paying very close attention to his new recruit, partly because of the suits and partly out of suspicion. He’d never before had anyone beg to work for him. “How the hell did you get Lisa into the Hub? You never did tell me exactly how you did that.”

“That’s because I really didn’t remember. It’s still a bit hazy, even now. It wasn’t long after I started... I got her and the unit into a van and drove it to the Hub when you were all out one night… team drinks or something… maybe even dinner. Yes, that’s it, I remember booking a table for four… you, Suzie, Owen and Tosh.”

“What about you?” Jack frowned as he tried to recall the event. There had been a time when they all used to go out together – team building, even if Owen always used to end up drunk and maudlin. 

“I never got invited… remember?” Ianto shrugged. “Even after Gwen joined, I wasn’t included… just support, after all, not a full member of the team.”

Jack cringed as it came back to him. The number of times he’d taken the team out and left Ianto behind, not even considering asking him along. He asked himself how he could have been so damn insensitive, so callous. 

“I used the delivery elevator… took her down by myself…”

“Then what?”

“Patrick was waiting for me one night… I told him I couldn’t do it… said I was going to throw myself at your mercy and tell you everything … that must've been when they got to me …” 

Ianto shuddered and despite trying to recall exactly what Patrick had done to him, he couldn’t get near those memories, they were a tightly coiled tangle in the recesses of his mind that he couldn’t approach.

“What makes you think that?” 

Jack was torn between getting as many answers from Ianto as possible and comforting his lover, who was getting paler and paler with each passing minute. He was shaking more noticeably now, either from the chill, the withdrawal effects of the drug or fear, probably a combination of all three thought Jack ruefully. 

“Because until now, I thought the secret I’d been keeping from you was Lisa. Back then, whenever I thought I should tell you, all I could think of was that you’d kill her… I didn’t remember him at all. Oh shit … I wish I could remember more… there’s something else…” Ianto clenched his fists and raised them to his head, wondering vaguely if he could dislodge the hidden memories if he hit himself hard enough. “Fuck, it hurts…”

“Hush, it’s alright.” Jack took hold of Ianto’s arms and lowered the fists, recognising that the time to intervene had come. 

“I’m sorry, Jack. I’m so sorry.”

“What for?”

“I betrayed you, deceived you. I was going to help Patrick take Torchwood away from you. Treason. Torchwood regulations recommend execution in cases of treason- ”

“What!?”

“It’s OK, I understand.” Ianto had shut his eyes, not wanting to witness the hatred he was sure he’d see in Jack’s face.

“No, you don’t understand, you idiot. That clause was for situations where an employee worked with an alien race -” 

“Like Cybermen?” asked Ianto, an eyebrow raised, challenging Jack.

“That was never your intention,” stated Jack bluntly. “You are not guilty of treason – never have been.” 

Jack pulled Ianto into his arms and virtually crushed him in a fierce embrace. 

“I don’t hold you responsible for any of this, from what you’ve said, you refused to let him gain access to the Hub and he made you pay for that. Damn it, Ianto, how long have you been thinking this? How the hell could you possibly convince yourself that I’d want to execute you?”

“You don’t?” Ianto’s voice was muffled as his face was pressed into the warmth of Jack's chest.

“Patrick – he’s the one I want dead, for everything he’s done to you and put you through. But not you, never.”


	25. Chapter 25

Jack wanted to get Ianto off the cold, hard floor and into a warm bed as soon as he could, yet realised that he had yet to convince the shivering man in his arms that he had no intention of taking out his anger on him. Oh yes, he did want vengeance and yes, he was livid – but not with Ianto. Whoever this character was, he had preyed on Ianto when he was at his most vulnerable, whilst trying to rescue what was left of his girlfriend in the aftermath of a horrific war, waged between two alien races that left hundreds of his co-workers mutilated and dead. 

Jack wondered what that man had been doing there at Canary Wharf and the only logical conclusion was that he must have been one of the rogue Torchwood Institute employees who had faked their own deaths on that fateful day. If that was the case, then they should be able to go through the personnel files and identify him. That would be a job for the morning. Jack’s priority was to look after Ianto, whose self preservation instincts were running at an all time low. He tightened his hold on Ianto, desperate to prove to him that far from wanting rid of him, he never wanted to let him go.

“Hey there. My ass has gone numb,” Jack whispered, not wanting to startle Ianto, whose head seemed to have grown heavier on his shoulder. “How about you let me take you somewhere more comfortable? Perhaps you need to get some more sleep?” 

“No – don’t want to sleep.” Although Ianto was exhausted, he was too strung out to sleep. He needed to come to terms with Jack’s unexpected forgiveness, although there was a voice calling out from the deep recesses of his mind telling him that he was an idiot to think that Jack would want him dead. 

“You sure?” Jack hadn’t failed to detect the weariness in the other man’s voice.

“Jack – why? Why aren’t you mad at me?” Ianto’s questions were hesitant, yet persistent. He needed to know if this was real. “After what happened before, with Lisa, I thought you’d be angry.”

Jack wasn’t surprised that Ianto was so wary of him. The last time he’d been made aware of a secret that Ianto had been hiding his reactions had been nothing less than murderous and he really had been prepared to put a bullet in Ianto’s skull. It was to be expected that Ianto’s subconscious, fuelled by the depressant effects of the drug he’d been injected with, had convinced him that Jack would want him dead for such perceived betrayal. 

“Because you weren’t trying to hide this from me. More to the point, I know you better now, I trust you completely. I’ve no reason to doubt your loyalty and if I took this out on you, I’d be a fool.” 

Jack thought back to the discovery of the Cyberman in the basement and how he’d sworn to himself shortly afterwards that he would never handle a situation as badly as that ever again. He’d let his personal feelings, his petulant anger at being taken for a ride, get in the way of how a leader should have acted. A strong leader would have isolated Ianto from the situation and dealt with it dispassionately. Instead he’d ruthlessly tossed Ianto into a nightmare and watched him tear himself apart. That had been both cruel and unnecessary. No wonder Ianto feared his reactions to this current revelation; the drug induced paranoia had tapped into a rich vein of bitter experience. 

“I’m sorry,” said Ianto, shaking his head. “I wish I could have told you then. If only-” 

“Thoughts that start with those two words rarely lead anywhere positive. Let it go. Trust me, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.” 

Jack carefully pushed away from Ianto to get a better look at him without totally releasing him from his grip.

“How are you feeling? And don’t lie to me.”

Ianto shuddered as the words left Jack’s lips, but he felt, deep down, that they weren’t meant harshly. 

“Honestly? Like shit. I bet I stink.” Ianto wrinkled his nose as if to test his speculation. 

Jack chuckled gently as it occurred to him that Ianto was gaining a grip on his true self if he could be disgusted at the state he was in. He did look rough, that was true, from his dishevelled, sweat-drenched hair to his reddened eyes and flushed complexion. However, he wasn’t shaking as badly as he had been earlier, just the occasional tremble, which Jack took to be a good sign.

“How about a shower?”

Ianto nodded. He was feeling sticky with sweat, and itchy for that matter, yet also shivery at the same time. The thought of letting warm water sluice the grime from his tired and aching body was an appealing one, although it would involve him having to remain standing for more than a minute or two.

“I’d love one, but I’m not sure I’d be able to stay standing long enough,” he confessed, snuffling slightly.

“That’s OK, I’ll take care of you.” Jack pulled him forwards into his arms and gently stroked Ianto’s back, trying to soothe him as best he could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a clumsy shower, that almost resulted in a nasty accident on slippery tiles, Jack carefully towelled Ianto dry; he’d noticed red weals where Ianto had begun to scratch his arms once more and wanted to make sure the skin wasn’t broken or aggravated any further. 

Whilst Ianto was brushing his teeth, Jack surreptitiously checked his quarters for anything that Ianto could use to harm himself, besides the obvious, and slipped the offending objects into the pockets of the trousers he pulled on. Although Ianto had seemed to be in a better frame of mind, he didn’t want to take any chances. He really needed to speak with Owen and he wasn’t entirely convinced that Ianto wouldn’t do anything stupid in the meantime.

Jack managed to settle Ianto back into bed and tried to maintain the virtue of a carer as the younger man refused to put anything on, saying it hurt his skin. The sight of a drowsy, naked Ianto nestled under a duvet, the damp curls of his hair dark against the white pillows, his hands clenching the sheets, wasn’t especially easy to turn his back on. 

Telling Ianto that he would be back shortly and that he would be in his office if needed, Jack tore himself away to climb the ladder. Rather than risk going to the autopsy bay itself, he called for Owen via his comm. unit and was pleased that he responded quickly. 

Owen paused before entering Jack’s office, he could sense the tension from the doorway and Jack was pacing, which was never a good sign.

“I take it you managed to talk with him then?”

“Yes, he told me what he could remember about Patrick, but he thinks there’s more that he can’t bring to mind yet.”

“Right – how’s he doing? Let me guess - achy, shaky and sweaty? A bit like the ‘flu but a lot jumpier?”

“That about sums it up. I helped him take a shower, that seemed to make things a bit better – and I got him to drink some of that vile sports drink. Found a bottle of that under my bed-”

“Stop there, spare me the details. I really don’t want to know why you keep high glucose drinks stashed in your den of iniquity. But, you did the right thing, with all the sweating he’ll need to replace lost electrolytes as well as water.”

“Thought so. He seemed … kinda paranoid when he was lucid. Thought I would want him dead …”

“Any indication of suicidal thoughts? I take it you haven’t left any –” Owen mimed cutting his wrists and followed it up with an impression of hanging himself. 

“NO!” exclaimed Jack, as it occurred to him that maybe Ianto was right in what he’d said about Owen’s bedside manners.

However, as Jack glanced at the pocket knife that he’d slipped out of the bedside drawer, it did come to mind that the remnants of the ties he’d cut were still knotted on the bed below. He shook his head as he thought that the knots were too tight and the pieces too short to pose any danger.

“Sorry, just checking. Look, Jack, he’s not behaving rationally. You’ve got to get it into your head that he’s behaving like this because of that fucking drug -”

“That and the memories that got stirred up.”

“Shit. Are they that bad?” Owen winced as he saw from Jack’s expression that they weren’t happy reminiscences. 

“Oh yes – this guy Patrick? He was behind Ianto bringing Lisa into the Hub. Sounds like he pushed him into doing it. Apparently, his objective was to take over my base, but Ianto didn’t co-operate fully. That’s why they messed with his head, buried a few memories here and there, but now they’re coming back to haunt him-”

“What? The memories or the bad guys?”

“Both.”

“Fucking brilliant –sounds like Teaboy’s been sent on a drug enhanced guilt trip.”

“As always, Owen, you manage to make even the bleakest scenario so much worse. Thank you.” 

“The good thing is that Ianto was only given one dose – this Patrick bloke obviously meant to get him hooked after repeated injections. That’s the good news. Means we should be able to deal with the fallout better. For now, we can treat the symptoms of the withdrawal but not the cause. Comforting him will actually make a difference. I imagine you’ll be able to take care of that.”

“No problem.” Jack smiled sadly. He’d got better at that with time.

“Me and Tosh have been working on a possible counter agent to the diamorphine derivative. There’s always the possibility that flooding the system with natural endorphins might help. But how the hell you manage to get a terminally depressed introvert like Ianto to bliss out on neurotransmitters associated with pleasure is beyond my capacity-”

“But not mine,” countered Jack with a broad grin and raised eyebrows, ideas already coming to mind. “I think I can work on that type of therapy.”

“You’re a fucking sick bastard, Harkness.” Owen grimaced as he realised what he’d inadvertently suggested to Jack. “Trust you to want to take advantage of a drugged-up body in your bed.”

“Not taking advantage,” protested Jack. “I’ll be trying to help him cope with the after effects of this damn drug.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Jack. I almost wished I’d never said a thing. I’ll need memory modification at this rate.”


	26. Chapter 26

Jack leaned back against the ladder and watched the barely moving figure lying in his narrow cot. He was pleased that the violent shaking and trembling seemed to have abated, replaced by the occasional shiver and incoherent mumble. He almost hoped that Ianto was asleep, his eyes were shut after all, and if he was finally getting some rest, Jack didn’t want to disturb him.

“You asleep?” he whispered.

Ianto opened his eyes and, once he could focus in the dim light, he frowned at Jack.

“Can’t sleep. It’s like my head’s a rattling box… and if I could just tip it the right way, whatever’s come loose will fall out… then it’ll be quiet… then I’ll be able to rest.” 

As Ianto tried to describe what was causing him so much frustration, he rolled his head from side to side on the pillow. All he succeeded in doing was making the dizziness worse and almost triggering an attack of vertigo. The way he urgently grabbed onto the covers to keep himself anchored to the bed made Jack wince in sympathy. 

“But it won’t… keeps shaking around inside … won’t come out.” 

“Hush, leave it be– when it’s ready to fall out it will.” 

Jack squeezed Ianto’s hand and smiled in an effort to reassure him, he knew only too well what it was like to have memories hidden inside one’s own head. Ianto smiled weakly in return before Jack released his hand and began to undress methodically, setting aside his clothing on the chair.

Ianto ran his hands through his hair that was still slightly damp and tried to remember how it had got wet. It came to him that he’s been in the shower and that Jack had helped him, with absolutely no sexual overtones whatsoever, which had to be a first. 

It occurred to Ianto, that, despite Jack’s assertion that he didn’t hold him responsible, he would appreciate the opportunity to maintain a professional distance. The weight of his confession about his association with Patrick still weighed heavily on Ianto’s shoulders, he could understand if Jack was uncomfortable with the idea of sharing his bed with him. 

“I can go upstairs if you want… I’ll have a lie down on the sofa. I won’t go far... promise.”

“You’ll what?” Jack turned around quickly, almost tripping over the trousers that were crumpled around his ankles. He was alarmed at the thought of Ianto getting ready to leave. 

“Um … if you don’t want me around, I’ll get out of the way –” 

Ianto had sat up and was starting to shuffle across to the edge of the bed, looking around blankly, wondering where he’d find some clothes to put on. He knew that they’d brought some of his clothes back to the Hub from his house, but he couldn’t remember unpacking his case, perhaps it was still in the office where he’d left it.

“Stay put will you! I was hoping to get in the bed with you –”

“Oh, Jack, I don’t think… I’m sorry, but no…” Ianto shook his head slowly, this was it then, he thought. He’d been granted forgiveness as long as he kept servicing Jack’s needs. But he really didn’t feel up to anything physical, certainly not anything that would satisfy Jack’s libido and he felt extremely flustered. 

“No, Ianto. I’m not asking – hang on, what the hell do you take me for?” Jack bit his tongue as he understood that stripping off and heading for the bed with a grin and a cheesy line, hadn’t necessarily been the subtlest approach to a man still suffering from paranoia and low self esteem. 

“Sorry, forget I said anything.” 

Ianto fell back onto the mattress and threw back the covers. He took a deep breath as he moved to one side, considering lying back and thinking of Wales. 

“Stop that – I am not asking you to do anything you’re not up to, I’d never force you – surely you know that?” 

Jack was shocked and had to remind himself of Owen’s warning that the after effects of the drugs would cause Ianto to say things that he didn’t necessarily believe to be true. However, he was horrified that there could be any chance that Ianto would think that of him.

“Please? Am I really that bad?”

“No! Yes… well sometimes. You can be a bit demanding at times.”

“You never seemed to mind. I thought-” 

Jack’s face fell. It had never occurred to him that he’d been taking advantage, but he found himself looking back over the occasions when he’d enjoyed what he had assumed was Ianto’s willing body.

“Put it this way, Jack, you’re a very difficult man to say no to.”

“Shit.” That confirmed it to Jack. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. 

“Jack, not like that … I could stop you if I wanted to. But when I say difficult to resist, perhaps irresistible would’ve been more accurate.” 

Ianto smiled softly, trying to defuse the upset he’d accidentally caused the older man, causing Jack’s shoulders to collapse forward and his body fold in on itself, as if in shame.

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” Jack reached out a hand to take hold of Ianto’s that was resting on his thigh.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Jack, I’m not up to dealing with your insecurities at the same time as mine,” Ianto sighed, feeling irrationally irritated. “It’s just that I really am not feeling up to anything strenuous right now. Owen’s medication is good, but not that good.”

“Hey, for now I just want to help you relax …”

Ianto snorted as if the mere concept of relaxing was totally absurd.

“You’re not serious, are you?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“You must have better things to do.”

“Don’t think so – you’re my priority right now. I’ll be able to concentrate much better on my job if I can take your mind off what’s troubling you– that makes sense, doesn’t it? So, you’ll be doing me a favour, too. Let me look after you.”

Before Ianto could summon up a counter argument to Jack’s peculiar logic, he found strong arms wrapping around him as he was tugged into a close hug. Before he could say a word, Jack’s mouth was on his own, teasing his lips apart and taking away both words and breath. 

Ianto’s hand pressed against Jack’s chest eventually managed to get through the message that he need to break for air.

“I somehow doubt this falls into any category of care that Owen has devised. What are you up to, Jack?”

“On the contrary – he specifically said that one way to break the hold this drug has taken over your senses is to encourage the production of natural endorphins to displace it. Really! You can ask him if you don’t believe me.”

“Oh, I can believe that, it does after all make a certain amount of sense. It’s just your interpretation and enthusiasm that is harder to take. I don’t understand you, Jack. After what I told you … and you still … this. I don’t know why you’re doing this.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“God, no,” exclaimed Ianto. “You might wake up tomorrow and change your mind. No, Jack, I really don’t want you to stop.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Confused. My head hurts and my legs feel heavy. I meant what I said before, I’m not sure how much I can give you in return-”

“That doesn’t matter for now. I want to do this for you. Why? I really hope it’s the after effects of that damn drug that’s stopping you from realising why I want to do this for you, why you mean so much to me. Trust me, Ianto, of all the things I’d do for you, this is the easiest by far.”

Jack tugged at the duvet that Ianto was holding tightly in his fists, intent on getting closer to the naked body that was concealed beneath the covers. If he didn’t know better he’d think that Ianto was preventing him from gaining access to the rest of his body.

“What are you hiding under there?” 

“Nothing – really you don’t need to-” 

Ianto’s protests were worthless as he suspected all along that they would be. Jack’s raised eyebrows told him that he had worked out what was going on as his hands slid under the covers to encounter what had become a persistent erection. Ianto blushed as he recalled a possible withdrawal symptom that Owen had mentioned quietly when he’d got Jack to fetch some dry clothing. The doctor had described priapism and smirked as Ianto had reddened then too. He had really hoped that it wouldn’t manifest itself. Now Jack would just be further convinced of his unparalleled powers of seduction. Ah well, if he could deal with that it would save him having to try to make it go away without Jack noticing, an impossibility in the narrow bed they were lying in.

Having nearly screwed up once, Jack was determined that he wasn’t going to mess things up twice. The arousal he had found under the duvet had convinced him that Ianto wanted this, or at least his body did, and that helped to quieten his conscience considerably. He concentrated solely on relaxing Ianto and providing him with pleasure. To start with, he framed Ianto’s face tenderly between his large hands and slowly kissed his way across every feature, taking care as he gently rubbed a thumb over the bruised cheekbone, before finally capturing his mouth once more, but this time with infinite care and tenderness. 

Jack smiled as he felt his lover responding, his arms encircling his waist and pulling him closer, his mouth welcoming the deepening kiss, his arousal pressing insistently against his own. The slight trembling that he felt was an accompaniment to the shivers that coursed down his own spine and owed more to the sensations that were flooding their bodies than the insidious drug that Ianto had been injected with. Then he launched a tactile assault on the younger man’s body, the teasing by lips and fingers followed by soothing caresses as he worked his way from throat to groin, slow enough to give time to every square inch of skin, but not so slow as to be torturous. There was a time and a place for the exquisite torture of denied release, but not if he wanted Ianto to unwind.

 

If it had been Jack’s intention to rid Ianto’s brain of all conscious thoughts that caused him to question not only the fact that he was still breathing, but that his breaths were catching in his throat as he felt Jack’s tongue lavish his body with attention, then he had succeeded admirably. Ianto both loved and hated the fact that he had fallen for a man who could so effortlessly cause him to become inarticulate with pleasure. 

Jack continued to move lower until he reached his goal. He had been monitoring Ianto’s reactions assiduously, not wanting to do anything other than expel the guilt that was chaining him down and to let the endorphins do their job. 

Placing a hand on each of Ianto’s hips to hold him down firmly against the mattress, Jack set about providing him with the release he so desperately needed. From their first time in this bed he’d always loved the fact that he could reduce his witty, loquacious lover into a writhing mass of flailing limbs with the right application of pressure from his tongue. 

Although Jack was probably not as good with words as Ianto, his mouth knew just how to wring the emotions free from the most tightly coiled of bed partners, letting loose the vocalisation of feelings, loudly in torrents of deliciously debauched sounds. If only Owen could see Ianto at that point in time, he wouldn’t be so quick to describe the young Welshman as a terminally depressed introvert.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another angst-lite chapter... do you trust me?

Jack was half way down the stairs from the balcony heading towards the lower level of the Hub, when he was stopped in his tracks by Owen calling out at him from the sofa. 

“Oi, Harkness! If you’ve given him heart failure by fucking him, you’re filling in the bloody death certificate yourself.” 

Although Jack rolled his eyes in a way that would have made Ianto proud, he did have the good grace to look slightly abashed when he turned to see Owen glaring at him.

“Well, it’s just as well I haven’t then, isn’t it?” Jack shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and tried for nonchalant. However, a barely suppressed smirk ensured that such attempts proved futile.

“Glad to hear it. I think. Still alive then?” 

Owen figured out that if Jack’s urgent dash from his office had anything to do with a medical emergency he’d have known all about it already. The fact that Jack was barefoot and his braces were hanging over his hips told Owen more than he wanted to know.

“Yeah – and he wants coffee,” Jack beamed as he pointed towards the mechanism in the corner, tucked in an alcove under the stairs. The scowl he received caused his smile to slip as he took on board Owen’s disapproval. “But I’m guessing you’re going to veto that.”

“What would be the bloody point? It’s not as if you respect and value any other piece of medical advice I dispense.”

“He’s feeling better, that’s all I care about,” Jack asserted in return, crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively. “As for advice, it was you that said increased endorphin levels would help – you didn’t exactly ban any particular means of encouraging their release.”

“Yeah, and it was such a hardship for you I bet.” Owen shook his head. “For what it’s worth, no coffee. Maybe a weak, sweet, milky tea would be OK… with any luck he’ll throw it in your face, which would be an added bonus.” 

“Thanks, Dr Harper, it’s nice to know you care.” 

Jack could well imagine the reaction a sugary cup of tea would provoke. He’d just have to make sure he let Ianto know that he was following Owen’s orders.

“And, for the record, in my professional opinion, the fact that if he’d consider getting you to make him a coffee suggests a serious decline in his psychological state and not an improvement.”

“I guess he did look kinda panicky when I said I’d make him one…”

“Now that sounds more promising. Get him to eat something. Keep it simple, toast perhaps. If he can’t keep anything down, I’m going to have to put in an IV line to rehydrate and medicate him, and you know how much he loves that.”

“Tea and toast – not quite what I was thinking of giving him in bed -”

“I hate to think what you had in mind. I’ll need to give him a check up soon – not that I doubt your opinion, but last time I checked you weren’t a bloody doctor.”

“Ianto told me himself that he was feeling better-” Jack protested.

“Yeah, and it’s not like he ever lies to you about that now, is it?”

“He wouldn’t-”

“Of course he does, all the bloody time, to keep you from fussing over him. But we’ve got an agreement between us - he’s honest to me about his physical condition and I don’t tell you unless it’s serious enough to badly affect his work.”

“Damn it, Owen,” Jack spluttered, infuriated that his long-held suspicions were well grounded. “You can’t do that! I will not be kept in the dark-”

“Yes, I can and yes you will – it’s called patient confidentiality, look it up. Bring him up to the boardroom when you’re done and I’ll examine him there before the girls get in.” 

“Not the autopsy bay?”

“I don’t want him freaking out. The boardroom is less clinical and more private.” Owen got up from the sofa, setting aside the magazine he’d been reading and headed back towards the autopsy bay.

“What’s wrong with my quarters?” Jack called after him. “Don’t I pay you enough to make house calls?”

“Fuck off, Harkness. After what you’ve probably been up to down there, you couldn’t get close to paying me enough. Give me a shout when he’s ready – I’ve got work to do.” 

Before Jack could respond, it was too late, Owen had disappeared back down the stairs into his white-tiled domain.

Jack frowned to himself as he made his way into the kitchen area and commenced his search for the bread and the toaster. Not to mention the kettle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Gwen love – it’s Andy on the phone.” 

Rhys shook his wife’s shoulder trying to wake her gently.

“What?” Gwen squinted, the bright light surprising her, as she had been fast asleep. “Andy? Andy Davidson? Tell him to call back later.”

“He says it’s urgent. Come on sweetheart, he was very good last night looking after you, getting you home safely and all that.”

Gwen resisted the urge to tell Rhys that she was more than capable of looking after herself and that, unlike PC Davidson, she had actually been armed.

“Give us the phone then, sweetheart, and could you get us a cuppa? Thanks, gorgeous.”

“Kettle’s on already. Here you go.” Rhys gave Gwen a kiss on the nose as he handed her the phone and left her to talk to her former colleague.

“Andy, what is it? … Penarth you say? … Well, I can’t come there just yet, and if you’re convinced it’s one of our spooky-do’s why don’t you call Jack? … You did and he’s not taking calls… I see…. And Owen said he’d get back to you and he didn’t? Well, I’ll talk to him when I get in and we’ll come out there and see what you’ve got. Just don’t let the council clean-up squad anywhere near the site. Thanks, sweetheart. See you later.”

“Bloody hell, you’re good at that.” Rhys was standing in the doorway, clutching a brightly coloured mug, full of steaming hot tea. He looked bemused as if witnessing something he’d never truly seen before.

“Good at what?” Gwen asked innocently, her eyes widening as she reached out for the mug with both hands.

“Making it sound like you’re actually interested in what someone’s saying. Mind out, it’s hot,” Rhys cautioned her as she greedily took the mug from him.

“But I was!”

“Bollocks! You weren’t – I could see it on your face! You don’t do that to me do you, Gwen? Say one thing and mean something else?”

“No, Rhys, of course not. I’d never do that.” Gwen sipped the hot tea. “Give us a kiss then.”

The feel of Gwen’s warm mouth against his helped banish any thoughts that his wife wasn’t being entirely honest with him. But there were times when Rhys just wished that Harkness and his team weren’t all so bloody attractive, and then he wondered if that was the man’s main recruitment criterion and that just made him even more annoyed. He shook himself to get rid of the negative thoughts. 

“Good, glad to hear that. Now, how about breakfast? I’m working on getting Tosh to have a fry-up, she’s weakening, and seeing as we don’t have any muesli and I said you’d be having egg and bacon anyway…”

“OK then – go on, twist my arm. I’ve got a feeling this is going to be another bloody long day.” 

Gwen pulled on a loose, towelling bathrobe and accompanied Rhys to the kitchen. Tosh was already there, perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, nursing her own hot beverage. Gwen had left out a silky, kimono style robe for her which looked better on Tosh than it ever had on her.

“Morning, Tosh. Sleep well?”

“Not bad, thanks, Gwen. This wonderful man of yours insists on cooking breakfast, but I’d be happy with cereal – really.”

“Don’t be daft, pet,” Rhys said with a grin. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I’ll make sure it’s one that’ll keep you both going. So, full works is it? Egg, bacon, sausage and mushrooms – maybe some fried bread as well?”

“You should’ve been a chef you know. You’d have been brilliant.” Gwen giggled as she watched her husband arrange pans on the hob and arrange various utensils on the kitchen counter. He may not be as dashing as a certain Captain Harkness, but he knew how to look after the people he loved. 

“Me? Oh yes, I could’ve been the Welsh Gordon Ramsey.” Rhys laughed heartily as he tucked an apron about his waist and opened the fridge door with a grin on his face.


	28. Chapter 28

“Dry toast? You couldn’t find the butter or marmalade then?” Ianto raised an eyebrow as he lifted the lukewarm, burnt piece of toast and examined it as if it was a specimen to be archived rather than eaten. 

“Oh? Owen just said toast. I wasn’t sure if you could have anything with it or not. Sorry.”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m not hungry.” 

Ianto placed the offending object back onto the plate as delicately as he could, rubbing his fingertips together to get rid of the blackened crumbs. 

Ianto genuinely didn’t have any appetite and, although touched that Jack had made the effort, he honestly didn’t think he could face eating anything. He tried not to let on that he wasn’t feeling too good, not wanting his mask to slip and hoping that he’d manage to control the shaking a little longer. Whilst Jack had been out of the way he’d gingerly got out of bed and splashed his face with water in the bathroom, holding his hands under a running tap in an attempt to dispel the clammy, sticky feeling that had accompanied the cold sweats he’d woken up with. 

It had been a last resort, pleading with Jack to get him some coffee, but Ianto thought that would buy him some time to get himself composed, at least a little. He had woken up clinging to the edge of the bed, as if trying to crawl away, but one of Jack’s arms was flung loosely about his waist, a large hand pressed lightly, yet firmly, to his stomach, keeping him from falling out. With consciousness also came the realisation that he was neither dead nor incarcerated in a cell next to the weevils, contrary to the images lingering on in his mind from the remaining shreds of nightmares. It had also occurred to him, in those waking moments, that his presence in Jack’s bed was for one purpose only and he had trembled involuntarily, but a gentle kiss to the back of his neck along with soothing words countered that suspicion. It almost felt wrong to be the recipient of such comfort, but the gentle touches persuaded his conflicting emotions that he had no reason to be frightened of Jack. 

The look that Jack was giving him now, one of quiet concern, supported his own instinctive feeling that his fears on waking had been groundless. Snuffling a little, Ianto carefully put the plate to one side so that he could reach down to the floor to seek out the tissue box, wincing as the movement caused a twinge of pain across his back. He shrugged and rolled his shoulders, hoping to pass it off as the usual stiffness he got from sleeping in the narrow bed. 

However, Jack was sitting close by, watching Ianto like a hawk, looking out for any signs that he was in discomfort, especially after what Owen had told him. He wasn’t surprised, but he was frustrated that he wasn’t always aware of how much suffering Ianto put up with before admitting it to him. He couldn’t help but notice the way that the younger man was pulling his lower lip between his teeth and biting down, as if to keep from making a sound. Jack reached over and tilted his head up to get a better look, the redness about the eyes hadn’t faded and he still felt warmer than he should. He hated it when Owen knew more about Ianto than he did, it made him feel all the more determined to prove himself worthy of the man that shared his bed and had stolen part of his heart.

“Try to eat some of it, please. You have to eat – Owen says he won’t give you anything for the pain unless you can keep food down and if you don’t drink, he’ll have to put you on a drip. Come on, at least drink the tea, it can’t be worse than having an IV put in. You know he’ll use the biggest needle he can find just to piss you off.” 

“Well, given the choice, your tea is the least scary option – just.” Ianto pressed his lips together and gave Jack an apologetic half smile. “I suppose I should be grateful that you didn’t mess around with my coffee machine.”

“I would have, but Owen said you couldn’t have coffee.” Jack swung his legs up onto the bed so that he was sitting next to Ianto and draping one arm about his shoulders, he held him close as he passed him the cup of tea from the nightstand. 

“Really? And when did you start doing what he told you to?” Ianto took a sip of the overly sweet tea and tried not to grimace. 

“Same time as you, I guess – since he died.”

Ianto leaned into Jack and chuckled gently into his chest.

“That’d be another first for Torchwood, an organisation where no-one listens to the medical officer until he becomes a zombie.”

Jack squeezed Ianto affectionately and then placed the plate of cold toast back onto his duvet-covered lap.

“Come on – try to eat some of this. If you like I’ll cut it into soldiers for you …”

“Don’t even try to feed me slices of toast – not unless you’re going to put something tempting on it, like honey or chocolate spread or Marmite…”

“I’ll file those requests away for future reference.” Jack winked knowingly.

“Not all at once though, some of us have limits.” Ianto smiled back bashfully, fully aware that what Jack had in mind had nothing to do with culinary uses of the different spreads. 

“Noted.” Jack kissed the top of Ianto’s head and held on tight, not wanting to let go.

Much as both men would have liked to have just crawled back under the duvet and shut the world out, there were pressing matters to deal with and as the silence stretched, it became more obvious to Ianto that Jack wouldn’t move unless he prompted him. He set aside the plate as discreetly as he could, not wanting to hurt Jack’s feelings, and lifted his head from the warm chest he was curled up against. 

“Now, if memory serves me right, it’s not naked Friday, so I’d like some clothes, please. I don’t suppose you remember where I put them?”

“I’m so tempted to say that I have no idea,” replied Jack with a mischievous grin. “But that evil glare just jogged my memory. Your suits are in my closet, with the shirts I picked out for you. Underwear and socks are in the bottom drawer of the bureau over there.”

“Thank you. What about my ties?” Ianto reached behind Jack to tug at the frayed piece of silk still attached to the headboard. “Or have you tucked them all away with your stash of sex toys?”

“I only used three of them – and I made sure they weren’t your favourite ones. The ones I like are in the same drawer as the socks. Whoa, there, where are you going?” Jack grabbed hold of Ianto’s wrist as he made a move to clamber out of the bed. “I'm not letting you get dressed unless you promise to eat something.”

“Why don’t you go and make some more toast. The marmalade is in the drawer at the bottom of the fridge, there should still be a jar of Golden Shred. If you don’t burn the toast, I promise I’ll eat some. Deal?”

"Deal," agreed Jack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Jack returned, Ianto was almost fully dressed. He’d put on a pale blue shirt and a pair of charcoal grey trousers with matching waistcoat that he’d left open. He’d obviously had a quick shave and was trying his best to look normal, but was failing miserably. Despite the fresh clothes, he still looked dishevelled, as if unable to maintain his usual composed and placid façade. Jack’s heart sunk a little, knowing that Ianto wasn’t out of the woods yet and that he had been forcing himself to appear better for his sake. There also appeared to be something troubling him, he was frowning and seemed unwilling to look Jack in the eye.

They sat together on the edge of the bed as Ianto kept his side of the bargain and ate just over half the toast. He was moving the uneaten crusts from one side of the plate to the other, arranging them in order of size, as he contemplated how to broach the concerns he couldn’t ignore any longer. 

“Jack, there’s something I need to ask you. I want your honest opinion. Please, don’t lie to me.”

“What is it? Tell me what’s bothering you.” 

“Beth. She was a sleeper agent all her life and she had no idea what was inside her until it was too late.” Ianto spoke quietly, obviously frightened by his own thoughts. “Maybe I’m like that as well.” 

“You’re not like that at all. I know you’re not a sleeper agent and so do you. What are you thinking of?”

“It’s that missing piece, that stray memory I can’t recall. Perhaps there’s something planted in me could be triggered. Maybe Patrick did something that will make me do something dreadful?” Ianto’s voice was rising as he allowed himself to put into words the thoughts that had been haunting him. “Think about it, Jack! Those missing days, when we retconned ourselves, what if that was me? Maybe I did something awful and then took measures to make sure none of us remembered it.”

“No, I’m sure that wasn’t you.” Jack didn’t know how he knew, but he was certain that Ianto wasn’t responsible for the days they had lost. “You refused to help Patrick once before when you barely knew me. Now, now that we’re … well you know me a lot better now. You’d never let him take over and you’d never let him hurt people that you care about.”

“Not deliberately – of course not. But what if he programmed me when he wiped those memories? How can you be sure you can trust me, Jack?” Ianto had leapt up from the bed, moving towards the ladder, tears brimming in his eyes. “I could be a danger to all of you -”

Jack grabbed hold of Ianto and pressing him back against the ladder, kissed him. It was messy and sloppy, teeth clashed and noses were knocked, but Jack wasn’t bothered about niceties, he was just desperate to stop the train of destructive thoughts that were threatening to cascade out of control.

“No way.” Jack breathed raggedly as he broke free, then wrapped his arms tightly around Ianto, not caring that he was creasing his shirt in the process. “Tell you what, I have an idea – why don’t you stay in my sight at all times, that way if you do prove dangerous I can stop you.”

“There goes that logic of yours again.” Ianto sniffed loudly as he let himself be gripped in Jack’s embrace. “You could save yourself the trouble and just lock me up.”

“That’s not happening, not on my watch.” 

There was something decidedly eerie about this situation, thought Jack, almost as if he’d lived it before. Shaking the troublesome thought from his head, he just held Ianto close until he got himself back under control. There was no way he’d allow Owen to see him like this, Jack would make sure of that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a while, but Jack succeeded in calming Ianto down before taking him tot he boardroom to wait for Owen. Rather than sit idle, they began to sift through the paperwork that had been set out the previous day. That’s when Ianto spotted the chess pieces that Tosh had gathered together, she had found a chess board and had been setting them out in their starting positions to try to see if there was a pattern in the pieces that had been left for them to find. 

Jack was too busy looking through lists of names of previous Torchwood employees to notice that Ianto had become very pale and was starting to sway on his feet.

“I told you he wasn’t well yet!” yelled Owen as he flung open the door to the boardroom and rushed over to where Ianto was standing. 

“Owen?” Jack looked up and spun around to see what had made Owen so angry. He was taken aback to find himself being held at arm’s length.

Ianto stood firm, staring at the chess pieces that were set out carefully on the black and white chess board. Then he shut his eyes tight, scrunching up his face as if dragging reluctant memories out of the locked vaults they’d been kept in and then opened them as if seeing clearly for the first time in days. 

“Bollocks, that’s what it was! Rattling around in my head - bloody chess pieces!” 

Ianto was breathing heavily, the images flashing through his mind mocking him, as if they had been hiding in plain sight all this time, just waiting for him to see them. He violently swept the board from the table, sending the pieces flying across the room. Jack moved towards him, shocked at this sudden outburst of rage.

“It’s Patrick. That bastard was always playing chess. He had this magnetic travel set in his coat pocket. I remember now, he used to text moves to his opponent. He used to get texts in return and then make the move …”

Ianto let Jack take his arm and lead him towards a chair, needing little prompting to sit down. He was feeling shaky again and angry at himself for having mislaid that vital memory. But Jack was crouching next to him, his face concerned, not hateful. Perhaps it would be alright after all. He accepted the hand that was held out for him to grasp and took hold of it tightly, pleased to see a grim smile on Jack’s face in response.

“So he’s been playing games for a while. That doesn’t surprise me and I wouldn’t mind betting I know the identity of his unseen opponent.”


	29. Chapter 29

Both Owen and Ianto stared at Jack, waiting with bated breath for him to share his revelation.

“Who do you think it was, Jack?” demanded Owen. “Bollocks, don’t tell me-” 

“Gates?” Ianto suggested, sighing heavily as he collapsed back into the chair that Jack had sat him down in. 

“Who else? But now I can’t help wondering if he’s still pulling strings somehow. We need to talk to UNIT.” 

Jack swore quietly to himself, regretting bringing up this possibility before thinking through the ramifications first. It occurred to him that it wasn’t exactly the best way to put Ianto’s paranoid mind at rest, bringing up the spectre of the man who had put him through a psychological hell and almost succeeded in having him locked away in a UNIT cell himself for the rest of his life. He started to rub Ianto’s shoulders instinctively, knowing that they would have tensed up painfully.

“Fucking great,” grumbled Owen as he took a seat next to Ianto. “That’s all we need. One weird psychopath on the loose who’s been in league with one we’ve stuck in prison. This just gets better and better all the time. Talking of which I need to check your vitals, Ianto.” 

Owen turned to Jack as he fished out a scanner from the bag he had dumped on the table amidst the strewn sheets of paper. 

“Did you manage to get him to eat something this morning?”

“He is still here, thank you, Owen,” Ianto said pointedly. “Yes, I did keep down some toast, so give me some decent painkillers and I won’t be forced to find out if your arm breaks permanently or not.”

“Tut, tut. That sounds like someone desperate for more drugs – might not be such a good idea to enable that.” Owen raised his eyebrows and leaned back to get a better idea of the general condition of his patient. 

“Jack, tell him.” Ianto looked over his shoulder at Jack, his eyes expressing an undisguised plea for his intervention.

“Give him whatever he needs.” 

Jack would deal with any fallout from Owen later, but for Ianto to be begging him to help meant that he must have been in dire need of some form of pain relief. He would have to get Ianto to admit exactly how bad he was feeling later. In the meantime, he’d make sure Owen gave him whatever medication he required to alleviate the symptoms. 

“It’s on your head then if he develops an addiction. At least he’s eaten, his cardiac read out seems more regular and he’s more coherent. If not quite as polite as normal.”

“Have you figured out how to counteract the effects of the drug he was given?” Jack asked Owen.

“Yes and no. I spent a while on the phone with Tosh last night, got her to access some restricted sites online that might give us a clue as to what we’re dealing with. Seems like it needs two or three doses to guarantee addiction, but one can be enough to trigger off unpleasant withdrawal symptoms. Pain killers can help, but only a second dose of the original drug is sufficient to get rid of all of them. That’s how the suppliers ensure addiction, making sure the withdrawal is so fucking awful, the user needs another dose to function.”

“But there is something you can give me?” 

“Still feel as if you’ve been hit by a steamroller?”

“Yep.”

“Headache and pain in your limbs that feels as if your bones are being slowly crushed?”

“Um …” Ianto looked over at Jack, who wasn’t looking happy at all. “Sort of, yeah…”

“Cold sweats one minute, fever the next?”

“Yes,” interrupted Jack, concerned that Ianto might choose to leave out a few symptoms to spare him.

“I was going to tell him.” Ianto rolled his eyes at Jack, feeling that he may as well confess all of the physical symptoms rather than try to hide anything now both men were giving him the third degree. But he wasn’t going to tell them that he felt on the verge of tears all the time, just in case that had nothing to do with the drug. “And I feel as if I’ve got cramp every now and then.”

“I can give you something that’ll take the edge off most of the ’flu like symptoms, such as the aches and pains, but you’re still going to feel as if you’ve been weevil wrestling for a few days yet. I’ve also got something for the cramps and we can deal with the sweating and chills. But, as for the paranoia and depression –” 

Owen saw that Ianto was getting ready to get out of his seat, so pushed him back down.

“Don’t even think of denying it! Those are all yours to deal with on your own. Trouble is they’re also well documented occupational hazards of working for Torchwood. You’ve been displaying the tell-tale traits since I’ve known you, so I’m not sure it’s worth you worrying about them.”

“Thanks for that, Owen. So, you’re not going to offer me counselling?”

“Fuck off, I’ve got enough mental baggage of my own thanks, what with no longer being able to drown my sorrows at the nearest pub. I can give you some pretty coloured tablets and that’s as close as you’re going to get to being coddled by me. But I’m sure Jack will be more than happy to have you lie down, close your eyes and tell him all about your childhood.”

“I can definitely manage the first two,” announced Jack with a smirk as he fetched a bottle of water from the small fridge in the boardroom. He was pleased to receive a smile of gratitude in return just before Ianto gulped down half of the bottle to wash down the small handful of pills that Owen had reluctantly given him.

“You’ve got to keep up the fluid intake though. All that vomiting has left you dehydrated. Water or fruit juice are good, but avoid caffeine. Also, you really should be getting more rest. Except you know what it’s like here, no rest even for the bloody dead.” 

“Or the wicked for that matter.” Jack smiled grimly as he heard the alarm going off signalling the arrival of the rest of the team.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There had been a very awkward moment when Jack had walked into the central area and seen Gwen standing next to Rhys with no sign of Tosh. But Gwen had quickly explained that Tosh had gone to her locker to get fresh clothing and shoes. After thanking Rhys once more for the largest breakfast she had ever eaten, Tosh had made it clear that she didn’t want any of the others to see her in a pair of jeans that were folded over at the bottom several times and a pair of oversized flip flops. She meant no offence, but needed to be back in her own clothes as soon as possible, a sentiment that Gwen could totally empathise with.

False smiles and alpha male competing handshakes dispensed with, Jack prompted Rhys to take a seat on the battered sofa under the dragon mural whilst he took Gwen to one side, out of sight.

“What’s he doing here?” Jack hissed at Gwen as he pointed in the direction of her husband. 

“I told you before, I’m not keeping secrets from him anymore.” Gwen replied, standing with her back to the wall, figuratively and literally. “Once he heard that some lunatic was targeting members of Torchwood he insisted on coming in with me.” 

“OK, he’s seen you’ve got to the office in one piece, now send him home.” Jack whispered harshly as he invaded Gwen’s personal space. “Or to work or whatever else it is that he does when he’s not getting under my feet.” 

“What?” Gwen looked as if he’d asked her to sacrifice Rhys to the weevils. “He could be in danger as well, Jack. I am not letting him out of my sight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s perfectly safe for him out there.” 

“Oh, so you’d let Ianto go out on his own then?”

“That’s completely different and you know it! He was kidnapped and drugged for a start!”

“And who’s to say that couldn’t happen to my Rhys?”

“I am,” Jack growled at her through clenched teeth. “Remember who you work for, Gwen Cooper. Send him home.” 

Gwen grabbed hold of Jack’s braces and dragged him in closer, her anger growing by the minute.

“I bloody well know who I work for. I also know why. To keep people safe. That’s all I am trying to do. I’m just concerned about the safety of the man I love. You know what that’s like, don’t you, Jack?” 

Gwen’s whole attitude challenged Jack, she knew how uncomfortable that made him and she didn’t care. She gave him that wide-eyed look that left no doubts regarding her feelings for him, whilst forcing him to compare his relationship with Ianto to hers with Rhys.

“It’s not like that-” 

Jack was fuming. He could not believe that within ten minutes of arriving at the Hub, she had got his blood boiling. She invaded his space like no one else dared to, so close that he could so easily fall into the depths of her large brown eyes and drown without trace.

“Oh really?” asked Gwen, arching her eyebrows. “Don’t you dare deny treating him differently to the rest of us, Jack Harkness. I may be a bit dense sometimes, but I am not totally blind. Meanwhile, I just want Rhys to stay close, until we know what’s going on.”

“Fine. But he stays put – there, by your desk. I don’t want him wandering around and he doesn’t come to the briefing. Got it?”

“That’s fair enough I suppose.” Gwen breathed out a sigh of relief and then released her hold on Jack’s shirt that she had managed to grab hold of in the heat of the moment. She uncurled her fists and patted Jack’s chest as he moved back a step, also suddenly conscious of just how close they were to one another.

Meanwhile, Tosh had been standing in the shadows, carefully observing the heated discussion. She had watched on as Jack trapped Gwen against the wall, his arms either side of her body, their eyes flashing at one another. There was something there between them, a chemistry of sorts, an explosive one if the verbal sparks were anything to go by. Tosh sighed with sadness and wondered, not for the first time, what would happen if they actually gave in to their unrequited passions. All she knew for certain was that it would break the hearts of two of the most decent men she’d ever met.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gwen entered the boardroom after everyone else had already taken their seats. She tried to look apologetic and failed, because her heart wasn’t in it. She had just had an argument with Rhys, who also wanted to know what she was playing at and why she wouldn’t let him go to work. 

“OK people, it’s been a very long night and a lot has happened, but there are priorities to deal with – first off the Brenhinnes Du has to be searched, not that I’m thinking we’ll find much, but you never know.”

“There should still be a pair of Moschinos, they’re mine and I’d really like them back.”

“If they can’t be found I’ll buy you a new pair, Tosh. Make that two. You saved yourself and Ianto before we got there.” Jack reached out a hand to grasp Tosh’s letting her know how grateful he was to her. “Then there’s the small matter of a crew member to interview.”

“The one Tosh throttled with her stockings?” Ianto smiled across the table at his colleague, unable to resist letting everyone know of her exploits.

“Really?” Jack’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, even more impressed than he had been before. “Make that three pairs.”

“Oh yes. What Tosh can do with a pair of stockings would make even your eyes water. I only wished I’d been able to appreciate it better, but I can say that it was very scary.”

“I’m sorry I missed that. OK, that brings me to our main priority - Patrick himself. Tosh and Ianto, I need you to look through the mug shots of former Torchwood Institute employees, he must be there. We need to find out who he really is and where he is now. My gut feeling is that he isn’t far. He’ll be keeping an eye on us. Even though Tosh sabotaged his rift manipulator I bet he’ll be using it again before long.”

“Is it my imagination or does that make for a lot of priorities?” Ianto looked up from the list he had been making on a piece of paper.

“You’re right, Ianto. There’s too much for us to deal with all at once and it’s all urgent. I suggest we let the police search the boat for us, while we fetch Tosh’s victim back here for questioning and then focus on finding this bastard before he does anything else.”

“There’s a warehouse in Barry as well, where Patrick took me,” Tosh added, indicating that Ianto should add that to his list. “There was a small workshop, with kit that isn’t exactly standard issue. We should get the police to cordon it off until we can get out there – I can give a fairly good description to help them locate the right one.” 

“Thanks, Tosh.” Jack ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in unruly spikes. He frowned as he realised they were getting more and more overstretched. “But if there are any clues there to help us locate Patrick we need them sooner rather than later-”

“What about the dead creature washed up on Penarth Pier?” Gwen looked from Owen to Jack as if surprised it hadn’t already been mentioned. “The one Andy Davidson is guarding for us?”

“What creature, Gwen?” Jack frowned as he tried to assimilate what Gwen had come out with. He had no idea what she was on about and wondered whether she had been paying any attention to what he’d been saying.

“Andy said he’d called here and told Owen about it.” 

“Oh shit … yes, I knew there was something I’d forgotten.” Owen looked suitably sheepish as Jack glared at him. He had fully intended to pass on the phone message to Jack when he went to examine Ianto in the boardroom earlier, but an angry Welshman hurling chess pieces across the room had somehow distracted him. 

“Again, what creature?” demanded Jack.

“He described it as scaly, about six-foot-long, with great big claws. I suppose it could be the thing that came through the rift.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Jack, Gwen and Owen eventually piled into the SUV and set off towards the Penarth road they didn’t pay any attention to the row of Georgian houses which sat between Roald Dahl Plas and Mermaid Quay. Bute Crescent was a remnant of Cardiff from its days as a bustling port, the old seaman’s lodges now converted into private residences, a pub and a small hotel. 

Most of the time, nobody that lived or worked there bothered too much about the comings and goings of the large black SUV, it never impinged on their limited parking spaces. There were also so many people walking to and from the Millennium Centre, at all times of the day and night, that the appearance of one or two more, as if from nowhere, was also overlooked. But as the heavy curtains fell back into place at the window overlooking the Oval Basin, a tall man, with long hair tied back in a ponytail, wearing a wearing a long coat, smiled. He had been watching carefully and had seen everything.


	30. Chapter 30

The beach at Penarth was deserted; the cliffs were obscured by low cloud that had come in off the sea. The rain was coming down as a steady drizzle, the sort that slowly soaked through layers of clothing. The cold wind blowing off the sea drove the rain horizontally, so there was no avoiding it, even under the pier itself.

PC Andy Davidson was huddled in his fluorescent jacket next to one of the columns under Penarth Pier taking shelter from the worst of the weather and cursing Torchwood more with each breath. The waves were lapping at the concrete bases of the remaining cast iron pillars as the incoming water slowly made its way towards him. There was crime scene tape wound around the surrounding supports, the loose ends flapping free, furling and snapping in the wind. He thought it was a waste of time putting it there in the first place, he was the only idiot out in this weather, even the dog-walkers, with their bouncy spaniels and yapping Jack Russells had given up and rushed back to their comfy people carriers and driven off. 

At long last, he saw a group of three people approaching him, striding across the pebble strewn sands, through the sea spray and rain. Captain Jack Harkness led the way, the collar of his greatcoat pushed up around his neck, behind him Gwen Cooper, the heels of her boots sinking in the wet sand and then the doctor bringing up the rear, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere but in Penarth on a rainy day. Andy could never remember his name, but he could sympathise with the Londoner as he would much prefer to be in a café with a steaming hot cup of tea and a biscuit than face that supercilious look from Gwen’s boss. 

When they reached the pier, Harkness didn’t speak to Andy straightaway. Instead he swept an arm out expansively, looking out to sea.

“There used to be paddle steamers crossing the Bristol Channel from here, long before they built the road bridges,” Jack declared, his feet firmly planted in the soft sand, the tails of his coat flapping about his legs in the breeze.

Andy snorted to himself, thinking that Harkness was a pompous arsehole, blathering on about stuff as if he’d actually been there and seen it himself. 

“Much as I’d love to reminisce about the golden age of Penarth, my shift finished half an hour ago and I’d like to get home before I end up getting washed out to sea.” 

Andy peeled back a wet sleeve to point at his watch, trying to remind the leader of Torchwood that he’d requested their presence. 

“Thank you, Andy.” Gwen rushed over intercepting Jack before he got to say whatever it was that he had in mind. “We got here as soon as we could, love. You know what it’s like.”

“Of course, much more important things to do I imagine. Most of which involve speeding around the one-way system of Cardiff in that bloody SUV of yours. Still, it was nice of you to turn up before the tide came in completely. I wasn’t looking forward to handcuffing myself to the pier to make sure I didn’t get swept away in the current.”

“Oh please, don’t stop on my account. That looks like a good place.” Jack pointed at the nearest pier support with a wicked twinkle in his eye.

“Jack,” admonished Gwen, understanding just how it was that he managed to antagonise every member of South Wales Police he spoke to.

“We really appreciate your assistance, Andy.” Gwen took his arm and led him in the direction of the taped area. “So, what is it you’ve got for us then? Are you absolutely positive it’s not just a dead fish?” 

“Yes, Gwen, I am sure. Even though I haven’t received specialist training like you apparently have, I know a fish when I see one. And it’s not a dolphin either for that matter, before you suggest it.”

“Dead dolphins that rot can look pretty disgusting,” Owen stated as he moved nearer the place where the remains of the creature lay, covered with a tarpaulin weighted down with lumps of concrete rubble.

“There aren’t any bones, which means it’s not a fish and it’s not a bloody dolphin.”

“Could be a shark, they’ve got cartilage skeletons, maybe it’s one of those basking sharks.” Owen knew it probably wasn’t, but he had to try to at least try to plant the idea in the police constable’s head. Especially if it did turn out to be the thing that had come through the Rift, he dreaded to think what sort of aquatic alien it could have been. “They’re fucking enormous.”

“You and your bloody shark theory – I heard all about that one in the canteen back at the station.” Andy paused to shake his head. “That thing that was seen in the Bay, pictures in the papers and on the local news? I reckon this is what those people saw and you lot covered it up.” 

Andy looked from Owen to Gwen and shook his head again as he sighed loudly. 

“Really, do you think we actually fall for all that crap you tell us?”

“What about a giant squid then? They turn up every now and then.” Owen tried to look sincere in his suggestions, but was having trouble keeping a straight face.

“Nope. Be my guest, look at the thing - no suckers, or tentacles. It’s not all squelchy like a squid. Anyway I’d know a giant squid if I saw one. I saw that documentary with David Attenborough…”

Owen ducked under the police tape and pulled back the tarpaulin wanting to find out once and for all what was hiding underneath. What he found had already began to decay, so if it was their creature it couldn’t have lasted long, which would make sense if it was alien and out of its proper environment, unable to survive. From the remains he could see that it had a tough leathery carapace, several pairs of jointed legs, two adapted into paddle-like structures, presumably for swimming and the front appendages terminating in impressive serrated claws, just like the ones that they’d seen in the mobile phone footage that Tosh had cleaned up. At the end of the abdomen was a long spine, which he wouldn’t mind guessing had been capable of delivering poison when the creature had been alive. He shuddered to think of what type of planet this thing would have lived on, preying in the deep waters.

“Oi, Harkness, do you recognise this? Is it one of those macra things you were talking about?”

“No, never seen anything like that anywhere,” muttered Jack with a scowl. He had fetched a long piece of drift wood and was using it to turn the thing over to get a better look at its underside. “Whoa, that’s a nasty looking stinger!” 

“Andy, why did you think this has got something to do with us?” Gwen was holding her hand over her mouth in a pointless attempt to keep the stench from making her gag. It was a stupid question and Andy’s face broke out in such a look of utter disbelief that she winced in embarrassment. 

“Because it shouldn’t be here.” Andy rolled his eyes dramatically. “It’s a eurypterid. It has to be something to do with you lot, otherwise what the hell is it doing here, on a beach in Penarth? Not like it’s here for the ice cream now, is it?”

“Hang on a bit – did you just say you know what this is?” Owen swung round to confront the dripping wet policeman. 

“Yes, I’ve been trying to tell you lot, but you wouldn’t bloody listen. Why bother listening to the local copper after all. Torchwood know every bloody thing-”

“Hold up, Andy. We’re listening now, love.” Gwen stepped close enough to reach out and clutch the arm of her former colleague. “What did you say it was?”

“A eurypterid. A prehistoric arthropod, that’s what it is. Ancient ancestor of scorpions and spiders. Dating from the Permian period – and there weren’t any bloody steamers around then, Captain Harkness, as it was about two hundred and fifty million years ago.”

Jack was left speechless for a moment as the information sunk in.

“Since when does the Cardiff police force employ palaeontologists?” Owen asked, annoyed that he’d been shown up by someone that he didn’t think should know more than him. 

“They don’t, smartarse-”

“Then how come you’re telling us what that is?” demanded Owen.

“I used to collect fossils when I was a kid and I always remember this bloody thing in the collector books my mam bought me. Scared the shit out of me it did. Those things grew to two metres long and as well as hunt other animals in the water they could crawl onto the land. I had bloody nightmares for a month. Wouldn’t go in the sea, I was that terrified – and here it bloody well is. Now are you still going to deny it’s anything to do with Torchwood?”

“I think he could be right.” Jack took Owen to one side and spoke in an urgent whisper. “We need to get this off the beach and take it back to the Hub.”

“I’ll get on of the extra-large body bags from the SUV.”

As Owen retraced their footprints in the sand away from the sea, Jack shouted out after him.

“While you’re there, can you fetch that flask of Ianto’s special tea?” Jack turned quickly and caught Gwen’s eye, making it clear, without saying a word, that she was not to challenge him on this. “I’m sure we can spare some for our friend, he must have been freezing his ass off here waiting for us. Least we can do.”

Gwen smiled encouragingly at Andy, hoping he wouldn’t see that she was clenching her teeth in anger.

“Come on then, tell me what it’s doing here.” Andy pointed at the eurypterid and directed his question at Jack. “It is one of your spooky do’s, isn’t it?”

“Nothing to do with us. Maybe it’s a living fossil, like the coelacanth,” Jack suggested wistfully. 

“Bloody hell – you think?” A wide smile of excitement spread across Andy’s face at the thought. “Just wait ’till I tell the National Museum about this, put their basking shark display to shame it will. They might even name the species after me, that’s what they do you know, when someone discovers a creature that everyone else thought had died out. Do you think there are more of them out there? Maybe they’re breeding…”

“I’ve no idea.” Jack shrugged, trying to ignore the burning looks that Gwen was shooting at him. “But it looks like Owen’s on his way back now with that tea I promised you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.prehistoric-wildlife.com/images/species/0/large-eurypterid-size-comparison.jpg


	31. Chapter 31

Jack was glad that it wasn’t far to drive back to the Hub for several reasons. The most important one had to do with a persistent fear that if he stayed away too long, he’d return to find Ianto and Tosh gone again, or worse. He had spoken to both of them on his comm unit whilst waiting for Gwen and Owen to get back to the SUV, and as far as he could tell they were both still there and unharmed, but until he saw them with his own eyes, he’d not be content. 

He’d been annoyed that Gwen had insisted on accompanying PC Davidson to the nearest café to wait for him to be picked up. She’d called the station to get someone to pick up him and his squad car having told them that he’d had a dizzy turn on the beach and wouldn’t be able to drive his car safely. Thanks to the retcon and Jack’s suggestions, Andy Davidson was left with the strong impression that he’d been wasting his time standing guard over a collection of flotsam and jetsam tangled up in a discarded fishing net. 

He should have taken heed of Owen’s warning about Gwen’s mood, but her loud, indignant outburst had made it abundantly clear what her opinion was of Jack and his decision to retcon her ‘friend’. As a result, he’d had to wait for her to return from the café before he could set off for the Hub. 

When Gwen had got back to the SUV, she had all but shoved Owen out of the way to make sure she got the passenger seat; all the better for making sure Jack couldn’t ignore her. That had provided yet another reason to break speed limits on the return journey, that and the overpowering stench from the dead eurypterid. Although Jack was sure that he could tolerate the latter for longer than he could Gwen’s nagging. 

On their return to the Hub, it hadn’t taken much to persuade Gwen to take Rhys with her to fetch supplies for lunch, including sandwiches, salads and cakes. Clasping a bundle of crisp banknotes in her hand, she stormed out, with her long-suffering husband in her wake. Gwen was glad to have an excuse to get away from Jack and he was relieved to get her out of the Hub, he needed explore the circumstances surrounding the discovery of another prehistoric creature and he wanted to protect Ianto from her prying questions that would trample roughshod over his feelings. He hoped he could trust the others to be more sensitive.

As soon as Jack had helped Owen take the wet, sand encrusted body bag down into the autopsy bay he called out for Tosh and Ianto to join them. However, one look at Ianto’s face as he caught the scent of decaying prehistoric sea beast was enough to tell them both to observe from the railing at the top. Tosh was more than happy to keep her distance from the thing that was exposed as Owen unzipped the bag and laid it out on the stainless-steel dissection tray. 

“Bloody hell, and I thought decomposing weevils smelt bad,” complained Ianto as he unrolled his shirt sleeve to hold it over his nose. He regretted not having put on his jacket, as he always carried a handkerchief in the breast pocket. However, Jack had insisted that he looked smart enough in a shirt and waistcoat and that he’d feel more comfortable not wearing his suit jacket.

“Is it what came through the Rift?” Tosh asked, peering over the rail, fascinated and repelled at the same time. “No wonder it made such a big splash.” 

“I think so. Tosh, I want you to look up eurypterid and make it quick. I need to do this before Gwen and Rhys get back.”

“Jack? Do what? What are you up to?” Ianto looked wary; he didn’t like it when Jack acted like this, both furtive and anxious. It only ever meant trouble.

“I’ll explain shortly, Ianto. But I’m going to need you to trust me, OK?” 

Jack would have liked time to let his friend and lover know what he had in mind, to prepare him in advance, but he had to find answers quickly before Gwen returned. 

“Yes, yes of course I trust you,” replied Ianto. However, no matter how much he trusted Jack, his concerns remained.

“Tosh, Owen – listen up.” Jack turned to make eye contact with each of them, one at a time. “What you’re going to hear is confidential for now and is not to be repeated. You need to trust me on this.”

“Something you don’t want Gwen to know about?” asked Owen, his eyes narrowed as he considered the possible reasons for the secrecy requested. “What the fuck are you up to?”

“Later, Owen.” Jack held up a hand to indicate that he wasn’t going to explain himself just yet, there wasn’t time to discuss his reasoning. “Tosh – what’ve you got?”

Tosh pulled up a series of images and displayed them on the screen on the wall of the autopsy bay. The images ranged from artists’ impressions to photos of fossils, all depicting a creature almost identical to the one that they had brought back from Penarth.

“Fuck, that’s it!” exclaimed Owen, turning from the screen to take a closer look at the eurypterid. He was bemused to find himself relieved to have proof that it wasn’t an unknown alien. “That copper was right all along. Would you fucking believe it?”

“It’s a primitive arachnid, from the late Permian period of the Palaeozoic era, two hundred and fifty million years old,” Tosh recited from the data file she’d accessed. “It became extinct along with ninety percent of all species on Earth at the time of the Permian- Triassic extinction. Jack, we’ve never had anything fall through the Rift from that far back in the past. It’s incredible, really-”

Before Tosh had the chance to say anything more, she had to quickly stand back as Jack came bounding up the stairs and pushed past her.

Jack took Ianto to one side, mouthing the words ‘trust me’, as he placed his hands on the other man’s shoulders and squeezed gently. In return he received a confused frown and a slight nod of the head, indicating that Ianto hadn’t a clue what he was up to, but that he was willing to place his trust in Jack.

“Ianto has reason to believe that Patrick was responsible for bringing through our resident pterodactyl.” Jack announced to the others, whilst not losing eye contact with Ianto. “Isn’t that so?”

“Myfanwy?” Ianto asked, as if there was more than one resident pterosaur. He swallowed hard and then exhaled slowly as it dawned on him that Jack had carefully phrased his disclosure, and had no intention of divulging the full story to the other two. “I keep telling you, sir, she’s a pteranodon, not a pterodactyl. No teeth, thank God. But… yes, I’m almost certain that Patrick must have used his rift manipulator to bring her through the Rift.”

“How the hell do you know that, Ianto?” demanded Owen, glaring at Ianto as he wondered just what it was that he’d confessed the previous night. 

It occurred to Owen that maybe Ianto had been in some sort of relationship with this Patrick character. He shook his head in disgust at the thought of both Ianto and Jack accumulating a collection of dangerous exes that put everyone’s lives at risk. Lisa Hallett and John Hart had nearly been the death of them all, and then there was Gray, another name from Jack’s past whose name was enough to make Jack go pale. 

“You weren’t screwing this bloke Patrick, were you? Or letting him screw you?” Owen blurted out the accusation before thinking, which wasn’t one of his wisest moves.

Fortunately, Jack was side-tracked by Ianto’s dash for the stairs and was fully occupied with restraining him; otherwise he would have gone for Owen himself. He held on tight to Ianto from behind, wrapping his arms about the younger man’s arms and chest, pulling him back from the edge of the stairs. He could feel his Ianto’s body seething with fury, could sense how much Owen’s cutting words had hurt. Not only did he understand that rage, he shared it.

“You bastard!” Ianto spat at Owen, as he continued to struggle to get free from Jack’s arms that were locked about him. 

Hot, angry tears slid down Ianto’s cheeks as the scornful words echoed in his head, making him wonder if he had done what Owen had suggested, but was unable to recall it. The mere thought that there could be any truth in the snide comments was enough to send shudders of dread through his body. The only thing keeping him on his feet was Jack. 

“Owen, I suggest for your sake that you take that back and never say anything like that again. There’s not a lot of call for deceased doctors in the NHS.” Jack’s voice was low, but the threat was clear. 

Jack loosened his grip on Ianto as he felt his breathing slow down, but didn’t let go; he made it clear that he was standing by him and that if Owen wanted to continue to pursue his nasty train of thought he would have to come through Jack first.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but come on, I’m not the one whose girlfriends and boyfriends, past and present, have tried to fucking kill us all!”

“Owen! How could you?” 

This time it was Tosh that yelled at him. The hurt in her eyes being something that Owen had not intended.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Tosh. I forgot!” 

Owen really had forgotten all about Mary. 

“That’s no excuse, Owen.” Tosh stated icily. “If Jack or Ianto want to break parts of you off that won’t grow back, don’t expect me to object on your behalf.”

“Understood. Sorry, Tosh.” 

“Jack – you were going to explain what our pteranodon has to do with all of this,” Tosh looked around at Jack, fixing him with a glare. “I remember you bringing it back one night. I was trying to work on a set of hieroglyphics and got distracted.”

“Yeah, and I was up to my elbows in paramedic brains,” added Owen. “Neither of us really had the time to help out with a tranquilised dinosaur. Mind you, me and Susie did think it was a bit weird though, one minute you were telling us you were going to run this stalker out of town and the next minute you were bringing him back home to play, along with that thing as a pet. What were we meant to think? That you’d been hunting for something cute in a suit and got a dinosaur thrown in free?” 

“Drop it, Owen,” Jack warned.

“If he knows something that we need to know-” Owen stated, pointing at Ianto.

“He’s told me and that’s all that matters.”

“Now we’ve established that a dead man’s brains are as easily bypassed by testosterone as those of one that’s alive, can we get back to this, before Gwen gets back? Because she would really love this discussion!” Tosh interrupted fiercely once more. She had seen the slump of Ianto’s shoulders, observed the toll on him of this argument and wanted them to get past it quickly, for his sake. “So, we have a pteranodon brought through the Rift, presumably using the same device that brought the eurypterid through. Right, Jack?”

“Thanks, Tosh – could you please look up the era when our species of pteranodon would have lived.”

Ianto had wiped his face with his sleeve and had moved back until he was leaning against the tiled walls, the coolness helping to calm him down. Jack gently took his arm and pulled him close so that they could both look over Tosh’s shoulder at her monitor. As Owen climbed the stairs and tentatively approached the work station, Jack glowered at him making it clear that he was on a final warning as far as upsetting Ianto was concerned.

“She’s from the late Cretaceous period, approximately seventy million years ago. That’s one hundred and eighty million years after the eurypterid.”

“Right, so we’ve got two different creatures, both from millions of years in the past, but from either end of the Mesozoic era - the age of the dinosaurs. Both apparently brought through the Rift by whoever Patrick is,” summarised Jack, looking uncomfortable. “Now, the thing is that those points in time have major significance. They just so happen to coincide with two instances of mass extinctions, both thought to have been brought about by asteroid impacts.”

“That’s one of many current theories,” muttered Tosh, scrolling through pages of data online.

“It’s true,” Jack sighed before adding softly, “I was there.”

“Ah – now that comment about having had dinosaurs for breakfast makes more sense,” muttered Ianto.

“What? Are you losing it again? Feeling feverish?” Owen frowned at Ianto.

“Piss off, Owen. It’s just something Jack said to me once.” Ianto shrugged. “At the time, I thought it was a chat up line.” 

“It was,” mumbled Jack quietly, so that only Ianto would hear. It gave him a strange feeling to know that Ianto had remembered that flirty conversation and that throwaway line, especially now that he knew the pressures he’d been under at the time. 

“What’s the relevance of this?” asked Ianto, frowning. “I don’t understand,” 

Ianto allowed himself to lean into Jack’s solid body, wrapping an arm around his waist, not caring what Owen or Tosh would think. He wasn’t feeling too good; his head was spinning and he needed to draw on Jack’s strength to keep going. There would have been a time when he would never have dared be so openly needy, but the grip on his shoulders tightened letting him know that whatever he needed would be his for the taking.

“It could be coincidental,” Jack speculated, although the tone of his voice stated in no uncertain terms that he didn’t believe that for one minute. “Both events would have created huge ripples in time, disturbances that might resonate with the frequencies that this Rift manipulator is set to detect. Some theories of time suggest that it’s coiled like a spiral and that’s how wormholes allow transition from one point in time to another. Short cuts if you will. But this is beginning to look deliberate, controlled. Who the hell is this guy that he can manipulate the Rift like that?”

“He wanted me to work on calibrating the device – he was after even more precision,” explained Tosh. She couldn’t help but wonder why he’d asked her to work on the rift manipulator if he could operate it with such accuracy. “It was like the rift key we gave Tommy. But there had been modifications.”

“Sounds like he wanted to see if you knew how to operate it, as if he was testing you,” suggested Jack. “What scares me most are the time zones he’s been accessing.”

“Why?” Owen asked, not sure if he really wanted to hear what scared Jack Harkness. 

“Imagine what would happen if he managed to open the Rift at the exact time one of those asteroids struck the Earth.” 

“Are you saying an asteroid could fall through the Rift and hit Cardiff?” Owen asked sceptically. 

“That’s highly improbable, but there were a series of atmospheric and environmental catastrophes associated with the asteroid collisions. Those alone could have devastating effects if they were to cross into this time zone through the Rift. No one would be prepared for the consequences. There would be nothing we could do.” 

“He’s got to be stopped. We have to find him,” said Ianto, stating the obvious.

“That may be exactly what he’s counting on,” replied Jack.

Leaning back against the wall next to Ianto, Jack thought through all the evidence that they were gradually accumulating and stopped to consider the whole picture. His career as a con man had been successful enough for him to be able to smell a set-up and he was beginning to detect all the signs. It was contrived, the whole wretched business from start to finish. They may as well have been pieces on a board game of massive dimensions. 

“What do you mean, Jack?” Ianto asked him quietly, not wanting to raise his voice. He could feel the tension and see from the darkening expression on Jack’s face that he was far past angry and nigh on explosive. 

“He’s letting us work it out. He wants us to find out what he’s capable of. Once he knows that we realise what’s at stake, he’s going to use it to draw us out and finish his game. Whatever it is he’s after, it’s in his sights now.” 

“That fucking bastard,” muttered Owen. “He’s been playing with us for years, hasn’t he?”


	32. Chapter 32

“Who’s been playing us?” demanded Gwen, who had apparently appeared from nowhere. “What’s going on?”

Ianto mouthed an expletive and Jack shook his head very slightly before turning to smile at Gwen.

“Good, you’re back. Hope you bought plenty, I’m starving.” Jack made a point of looking past Gwen, frowning when he couldn’t see sight of her husband. “Where’s Rhys?” 

“He’s in the boardroom, setting out the food,” replied Gwen, hooking a thumb over her shoulder in the general direction of the boardroom.

However, Gwen’s eyes didn’t leave the faces of the team as they looked at her from their positions huddled around Tosh’s computer. It almost looked as though she’d caught them unawares and there was that slight hint of guilt in their expressions. 

“You didn’t send me on the lunch run just to get me out of the way, did you, Jack?”

“I asked you to go, because at the time I thought it was cruel to send Owen out for food he can’t eat,” stated Jack, although he would reconsider that courtesy if he made any more insensitive jibes at Ianto. “And Ianto and Tosh were busy trying to identify the bastard that kidnapped them and at the.” 

“Of course, I suppose if you put it like that, it makes sense.” Gwen nodded, conceding that his explanation was logical. However, she was still suspicious even though there didn’t appear to be anything incriminating on Tosh’s computer. “So, what was it you were saying as I walked in? Sounded like bad news. What have you found out?”

“Tosh identified the creature – PC Palaeontologist scores full marks. Shame he won’t remember.” Jack folded his arms defensively in front of his chest. “But, before you start that argument again, it was for his own good.”

“So, Andy was right.” Gwen shrugged. “I never doubted him for one minute, he may not be as flashy as you Jack, but he’s a good copper. That doesn’t explain why you’re all huddled about Tosh’s work station, does it now? What have you got?”

Jack took a deep breath and addressed Gwen slowly and deliberately, not wanting to give her a reason to accuse him of leaving her out of the loop.

“Basically, Gwen, the guy that kidnapped Ianto and Tosh has the capability to open the Rift at will, letting creatures through from millions of years ago in the past. That alone poses a considerable danger and he’s gotta be stopped.”

“That’s not all though, is it?” Gwen pursued her line of enquiry doggedly. She tilted her head to one side and adopted that terrier look, when she was onto something and wasn’t going to let it go. “I heard what you said and then Owen’s reply about him playing with us for years. What makes you think that? Ianto? Was it something he said when he had you and Tosh on that boat?”

“Yes, it was,” interjected Tosh as she got out of her seat to stand by Ianto, intent on deflecting Gwen’s potentially harmful curiosity. “That’s right, Gwen.”

Tosh wasn’t being totally deceptive; it was on the yacht that Patrick had stated that Ianto’s memories had been suppressed, although from what Jack had divulged about Myfanwy, it would seem that some of them had been triggered. There was apparently a history between the two men, one that went back to a time before Ianto had joined Torchwood Three. However, she trusted both him and Jack. It annoyed her that Gwen apparently didn’t. 

“What did he say, Tosh?”

“Please, Gwen – it’s less than twenty-four hours since we were held by that psychotic lunatic. We’ve made our reports to Jack and neither of us wants to go over it all over again. We’ve both told Jack everything he needs to know and what’s more, Ianto is still sick from the drug he was injected with.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” sighed Gwen, looking suitably remorseful, even if she suspected that she was still being kept in the dark about something. However, one good look at Ianto was enough to see that he did appear flustered and his eyes were red, almost as if he’d been crying. “Sorry, Ianto, love – how are you feeling now, sweetheart?”

Ianto was grateful that he was flanked by Jack on one side and Tosh on the other, as they were inadvertently acting as a barrier between him and Gwen. He didn’t want her to get too close, not until he was feeling stronger. She meant well, but her excess sympathy could be overwhelming. He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets to hide the fact that they were starting to shake.

“To be honest, I’ve felt better. Feels a bit like a nasty case of the ’flu.” 

In truth, Ianto’s head was throbbing and he suspected that if it wasn’t for Jack’s arm, that had once more snaked its way around his waist, he would no longer be on his feet. He really needed to get away from Gwen’s inquisition soon. He had enough on his mind without her continued badgering, however well meaning her intentions may have been.

“In fact, Owen, I think you owe me some more of those pills you promised me earlier.”

Jack could feel that Ianto was tense, as if trying desperately not to keel over. He shot a glare in Owen’s direction to make sure he’d acquiesce to Ianto’s uncharacteristically public request for medication. 

“As long as you actually have something to eat for lunch – I’ll go fetch them after I’ve put stinky on ice.”

“Please – and you might want to actually switch on the extractor fans down there, the living amongst us still have our sense of smell,” Ianto called after Owen as he returned to the autopsy bay to deal with the decomposing eurypterid.

“Tosh, why don’t you go with Gwen and get some lunch?” suggested Jack. He held up his arm and made a show of looking at his watch before announcing: “Briefing in the boardroom in ten minutes.”

“What about Rhys?” Gwen stopped in her tracks to spin around, her hands on her hips. That indignant look back on her face once more. 

“He can stay, there’s something he can do to make himself useful. Go on, before I change my mind.” 

Jack dismissed Gwen and then keeping his arm in place about Ianto’s waist, he held out his free hand to provide extra support as he led him in the opposite direction, settling him down on the sofa. He wasn’t sure that Ianto would be able to make it to the boardroom without collapsing and he probably wanted some privacy.

“Thank you,” muttered Ianto as he sat back. He rested his head on the back of the sofa, hoping the room would stop moving if he shut his eyes, at least that way he couldn’t see it spinning around him.

“You going to be OK?” Jack sat next to Ianto and clasped a trembling, clammy hand between his. He had suspected that Ianto had been trying to hide the symptoms in an effort to avoid the others witnessing him succumb to another bout of withdrawal symptoms. 

“I just need a few minutes … and some more of whatever it was that Owen gave me earlier. The effects of that are wearing off now.”

Jack leant over and kissed Ianto on the top of his head, an affectionate gesture that spoke volumes. 

“Take as much time as you need. By rights you shouldn’t have got out of bed this morning. Perhaps you should go back to my quarters and have a lie down?”

“Much as I would have loved to have stayed in your bed all day, there really is work to do.” 

Ianto sniffed slightly as he gave Jack’s hand a gentle squeeze. He found himself having to resist the strong urge to grab hold of Jack and hold on tight, reminding himself that it was the middle of the day and the rest of the team were still there, not to mention Gwen’s better half. He really was beginning to feel awful again, and the temptation to crawl under the covers of Jack’s bed and curl up in the dark until he felt more like himself was almost irresistible. 

Jack heard the barely audible sigh that escaped from Ianto’s lips and bitterly regretted that his role as leader of Torchwood had to take priority over any consideration of the wellbeing of his lover.

“So, I take it that you and Tosh didn’t have any luck identifying Patrick from the files?” Jack asked, although he already knew the answer. If they had made a breakthrough, they would have told him as soon as he’d returned to the Hub.

“Nope. We looked through every bloody picture on file from Torchwood London, he’s not there.”

“He must be. That list you and Tosh came up with – AWOL temporal and spatial anomaly experts?” 

“We looked through those first. He is definitely not one of them. Remind me, Jack, why are we assuming he’s ex-Torchwood?”

“He knows how we work, you did say that he was there in the Tower when the battle took place-”

“No…” Ianto frowned as a stray strand of a memory drifted back into focus. 

“No, not in the Tower itself, he was outside trying to get in. He was coming up from the basement carpark, into the stairwell that used to lead down into the secure archives. Everyone else was desperate to escape, to get out. The place was burning, there was smoke everywhere, there were … oh shit …” 

Ianto swallowed back a wave of nausea as he could almost taste the acrid stench of burning hair and flesh.

“It’s OK. You don’t need to think about that now.” Jack could tell from Ianto’s voice that he was replaying that day in his head. He was sure that those particular images weren’t going to help Ianto overcome the lingering depression and paranoia. 

“But I do, Jack. That’s the whole fucking point. If we’re going to figure out what this bastard is up to, I have to remember that day and what followed next from the moment he found us.” Ianto paused to take a deep breath and broached the subject he’d been putting off until the others were out of the way. “There is always one way of finding out if there’s anything else buried in my memories, something lurking in my subconscious – we could use the mind probe.”

“I am not using that on you!” Jack shook his head violently. “It’s too dangerous to use on humans-” 

“You used it on Beth. It didn’t kill her.” 

Ianto chose not to mention the fact that her head hadn’t exploded like it had on a previous subject, that was hardly the type of argument to win Jack over.

“That was different.” 

“How?”

“It may not have killed her, but the amount of pain she suffered-”

“You probably wouldn’t have to go so deep,” reasoned Ianto. “It wouldn’t be as bad-”

“No!” Images of Beth screaming in agony fuelled Jack’s adamant refusal.

“Why not, Jack? What’s the difference?”

“She wasn’t someone I cared about and I was doing it to protect the general population. She wasn’t someone I -” Jack breathed out slowly, calming himself and then placed the palm of his hand against Ianto’s chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. “I will not put you through that. Don’t ask me to. Please.” 

Ianto rested his hand over Jack’s, holding it in place above his heart, aware of the sentiments that he was expressing and wishing he could think of something else to suggest. Looking into his lover’s eyes he could see that having to make that decision was tearing him apart, that’s why it was up to him to take the burden away from Jack. 

“We both know that sacrifices have to be made from time to time. I wouldn’t ask you to do this otherwise. This is too important, Jack. There could be something there vital, something I’m not going to remember otherwise.”

“At what cost?” Jack begged for an answer, although he knew the cost would be one that he couldn’t bear, to either Ianto or to his own conscience. He could not deliberately inflict pain on this man, the mere thought of doing so made him feel physically sick. “No. There has to be another way.”


	33. Chapter 33

Rhys had eventually found the plates and cutlery in one of the cabinets that lined the walls of the room that Gwen had ushered him into. She didn’t seem to have a clue where he’d find anything, which led him to believe that her claim that Ianto singlehandedly fed and provided beverages for the entire team wasn’t so far-fetched. It occurred to him that if the poor lad wasn’t busy collecting or ordering take away, he was making them coffee and not just any old instant crap either. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have anything else to do, he knew from that run in with that space whale that Ianto could handle himself in the field just as well as any of them and he shuddered to think what extra duties he had to perform for Harkness. 

There were stacks of computer print-outs at one end of the long table, so Rhys set out the various sandwiches and salads in dishes at the end furthest from the door. In his attempt to keep everything in one area, he accidentally dropped a paper serviette on the floor. As he bent down to pick it up, he spotted several small, white chess pieces under the table. He picked them up and placed them back on the table, frowning to himself as he hadn’t really pictured any of them as the type to sit around playing chess while waiting for the next alien invasion. He knew that Gwen played cards sometimes, although she was crap at poker, being completely incapable of not showing her emotions. He didn’t think Jack would have the patience for chess. He hardly knew Owen, he never seemed to get the chance to talk to him before Gwen had something urgent for him to listen to or see. Maybe it had been Tosh and Ianto that played chess; he’d have to ask Gwen.

The two women came through the door to the boardroom first and Rhys couldn’t help but notice that the atmosphere between them was not as friendly as it had been at breakfast. He hadn’t failed to pick up on the tension earlier between Jack and Gwen – he’d hardly got a word out of her as they’d waited at the sandwich bar for their order to be made up. It seemed to him that she never used to have so much trouble taking orders when she’d been in the police, nowadays she was always complaining about decisions that Jack had made and why she disagreed with him. Maybe they were too similar? Both stubborn as hell and with tempers that could flare up at a moment’s notice. The more he found out about Gwen’s real job the less he liked it, and he definitely wasn’t happy with the way it had changed her.

“Smoked salmon?” Tosh’s eyes lit up as she spotted her favourite sandwich filling.

“Jack was paying, so I decided to order the most expensive on the menu. I think we deserved it,” Gwen responded, with a shrug and a smile. 

Gwen suddenly felt bad about taking out her frustration on Tosh, she didn’t deserve it. Yesterday had been a rough day for her and she deserved a break. It was just that Jack infuriated her so much with his bloody secrets and withheld facts; she wished he trusted her more.

“I can see that I shouldn’t expect any change from what I gave you two. You’ve really splashed out. Is that lobster?” asked Jack, as he took in the spread of food at the opposite end of the room. “I’m surprised any of you fancy seafood after what washed up from the Bay.”   
Jack’s attempts to flash a grin failed miserably, his heart just wasn’t in it. He had hoped to persuade Ianto to join the rest of the team for lunch, but he said he needed some time to himself. He made a mental note to put the mind probe in his secure safe, the one that not even Ianto had the code to. There was no way in hell that he was going to sanction its use on any of his team, let alone the one that meant the most to him.

“Sorry about that, Jack, but Gwen said you wouldn’t object.” Rhys held his hands up accepting the blame for the over indulgence, but Jack waved off his apology as he walked over to grab a beef and horseradish baguette. 

“Thanks for helping Gwen collect the food, I’m grateful.”

“She told me that was the usual order-” Rhys glowered at Gwen as she stood behind Jack pulling one of her ‘who me?’ faces, pouting as she shook her head disingenuously. 

“That’s alright, Rhys,” mumbled Jack out of the side of his mouth, crumbs of crusty bread tumbling down across his chest and onto the floor. “As soon as you’ve had lunch I want you and Gwen to get down to the Harbour Master’s Office. Gain access to the Brenhinnes Du and carry out a thorough search. If there is any scrap of evidence there that’ll help us locate this bastard, I want it found. Got it?” 

“Yes, Jack.” Gwen smiled with gratitude, not only for being entrusted with searching the yacht, but also for allowing Rhys to play an active role in their investigation.

Jack was glad to see that Gwen was genuinely pleased with his request, he had thought that she might reject it. He saw that the chess pieces were back on the table, neatly arranged once more and they reminded him that, even though he really didn’t like keeping her out of the loop, given a choice between Gwen’s need to know and Ianto’s state of mind, the latter would always win out. He heard a quiet cough to his side and turned to see Tosh looking at the chess pieces as well. 

“It wasn’t me. Owen told me that Ianto had knocked them flying. Rhys must have picked them up.”

“Tosh, once Owen has finished dealing with the eurypterid, I want the two of you to get to the police station and pick up the crew member they’re holding in custody. If there’s any problem, question him there, but I need to know whatever he can tell us, willingly or not, about his employer. I’ll stay here with Ianto and see if we can’t find something in the database to lead us to a positive identification of Patrick.”

“Of course, Jack.” Tosh looked around and saw that Gwen was leading Rhys out of the boardroom and in the direction of her desk, no doubt to explain to him what they would be doing. She leant closer to Jack and whispered to him. “I take it Ianto has told you that we just reached dead ends this morning?”

“Yes.” Jack’s eyes were also on Gwen as he replied quietly to Tosh. “But whoever he is, Ianto remembers that he was hanging around Torchwood at the time of the battle of Canary Wharf, so there has to be some connection. I just need to figure out what.”

“His memories are coming back then?”

“A combination of factors seems to have caused them to start returning. Keep this to yourself for now, Tosh. He hasn’t deliberately hidden this from me, or any of us, but I’m not sure that either Gwen or Owen will see it that way.”

“I know, Jack, I won’t say a thing.” Tosh rested her hand on Jack’s arm, reassuring him that he had her loyalty and trust. “On the boat, Patrick taunted him, it was almost as if he was goading him with whatever had happened between them in the past. I got the distinct impression that he really hates Ianto. I’m worried.”

“Me, too. The sooner we track down this creep and put him out of action the better, right?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once the others had left the Hub, Jack went to find Ianto. He’d not joined them for lunch, which had annoyed Owen as he thought he’d made it perfectly clear that the medications he’d dispensed had to be taken with food. 

Eventually Jack found Ianto on the sofa in his office, his diary in his lap and a pencil in his hand. He appeared to be trying to sketch something. Jack just leaned against the door frame for a while, his hands behind his back, not wanting to disturb Ianto.

“You missed our lunch date. Keep doing that and I’m gonna think you’re going off me.”

“I rather doubt that would be possible, sir. You’re a habit I can’t seem to kick.”

“You have to eat something. Those pills that Owen gave you-”

“I know. He told me. I just can’t face anything just yet, even the thought of a sandwich turns my stomach. Sorry.”

“How about a welsh cake? Rhys made Gwen buy some.”

“Rhys bought welsh cakes – why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“He got them from that little shop in Mermaid Quay that cooks them fresh, they’re still warm. Tosh told me they were your favourite. Can’t I tempt you with one of those?”

“Go on then, if it shuts you up.”

Jack brought a hand from behind his back producing an unopened bag from ‘Fabulous Welshcakes’.

“How come Tosh knows things about you that I don’t?”

“Jealous?” Ianto smiled as he took the bag from Jack, opened it and removed one of the buttery welsh cakes that were still warm. “Besides, I have to try to maintain something of an air of mystery about me to keep you interested.”

“That’s not true,” Jack said softly as he sat next to Ianto. “What I do know about you is more than enough to keep me interested.”

Ianto put the pencil down and pressed his mouth to Jack’s, responding to his remark with a cinnamon flavoured kiss that left Jack licking his lips with appreciation.

“Very tasty, I’ll make sure to buy more of those for you for private consumption. What are you drawing?”

“Patrick. I thought that I could make a sketch, scan it and use it as a base for making an identikit image. Then run that through the databases and see what comes up.”

“Good thinking. Let me see.” Jack took a good look at the face staring out at him from the pages of Ianto’s diary. He committed the image to memory. “You didn’t tell me he had a scar – that looks nasty. I wonder what the hell caused that.”

Ianto shuddered as the ghost of a memory drifted out of the shadows in his mind and then faded out once more before he had chance to grasp it.

“You OK?” Jack stroked Ianto’s back, wondering why the medication that Owen had given him hadn’t kicked in yet. 

“No, not really.” The words were out before Ianto could hold them back, but it would appear that his subconscious didn’t care less about his reluctance to display weakness, it wanted Jack’s comfort and support.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Gwen and Rhys arrived at the quay they were unable to get close to the waterside. There were two fire engines at the site, busily engaged in putting out a fire on the solitary yacht that was moored up. The flames were reflected as angry crimson and gold flashes, dancing in the choppy water. They could only watch on as the conflagration took stronger hold of the boat: canvas sails, wooden decks and upholstery all added fuel to the fire that engulfed the vessel. Cinders were floating away in the updrafts as sooty clouds rose up above the smouldering wreck. Any evidence that may have been left behind was going up in smoke before their eyes. 

“Oh shit,” muttered Gwen, wondering how the hell she was going to break this news to Jack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen was fuming by the time he had convinced the panicked desk sergeant that he really was a doctor. The police had closed ranks, literally, and were doing their best to prevent anyone getting near the cell that housed the man they’d come to interview. They’d told Owen and Tosh that the prisoner was receiving medical attention and wasn’t available for questioning. What they’d failed to say to begin with was that the paramedics were in there with him, frantically trying to resuscitate him. 

Tosh demanded to know what had happened whilst Owen took over from the ambulance crew in examining the lifeless body on the floor of the cell, his shirt ripped open to allow access to his chest. 

“He was fine, there was no sign that he was ill at all. He made his phone call first thing this morning to get legal representation. It was just after the solicitor had finished with him that he collapsed.”

“What do you mean, collapsed?” Owen called out over his shoulder, wanting more details as he reluctantly stopped the attempts to revive the recently deceased man.

“The officer accompanying him back to his cell says he was fine until they got there, then he just clutched his chest, like he was having a heart attack and then he just dropped to the floor. He raised the alarm, pulled the emergency cord and then carried out CPR while we waited for the ambulance to arrive. We did everything we could. Fuck it, they’re going to throw the book at us over this, aren’t they? Died in police custody – there’s going to be a bloody inquiry into this. Shit.”

“What happened to the solicitor?” Owen asked the policemen that were looking on hopelessly. Their major concerns all centred on the probability of accusations of mistreatment of prisoners being held in their cells.

Tosh caught Owen’s eye and could tell that he’d come to the same conclusion that she had. 

“Mr King, sir? He left before the ambulance arrived. We’ve not been able to get in touch with him since.”

“Mr King? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Any luck?” Jack had been making use of a variety of police databases from Scotland Yard to Interpol to search for a face matching the identikit image that Ianto had produced and had got nowhere. He had left Ianto to search through the Torchwood Archives, not only for employees, but also any people that the Institute had either interviewed or investigated in its history.

“None at all,” admitted Ianto with a loud sigh. He rolled his shoulders that had become stiff as he’d sat hunched over the computer in the corner of Jack’s office. He allowed himself a slight smile when he felt Jack’s large, warm hands start to massage the tight muscles. 

“Tell you what - take out that scar. Perhaps he got recorded on file before the injury that caused that.”

“I didn’t think of that.” Ianto was irritated, because it was an obvious suggestion and he should have thought of it.

Ianto tapped a few keys and with a click of the mouse the scar vanished.

“Get rid of the long hair as well. Let’s focus on the face itself.”

“Done. Running now.” Ianto leaned back into the warmth of Jack’s chest as the older man slid his hands down the front of his body. “Hold on! It’s coming up with a match! Hang on, that can’t be right. That doesn’t make any sense at all. It needs a security code to open the file.”

“What? Let me look.”

Jack saw what was bothering Ianto, but went ahead and typed in the code to access the file that indicated an 80% match to the picture that Ianto had fed into the system. The file itself was located in the secure area that Jack now used to store information about the inhabitants of Flat Holm. He could see why Ianto was confused with the file being there, it was an area reserved for the lost souls that had been taken by the Rift and then returned as shadows of their former selves, often out of time. The files included those of the unfortunate victims of the Rift that Torchwood once kept imprisoned in the cells.

A fuzzy black and white image appeared on the screen – an old photo, over-exposed and poorly focused, that had been scanned and filed away many years ago. Ianto shivered as he looked into the eyes of his tormentor. It was a much younger face, unblemished by the ugly scar and quite handsome, even though the expression was grim and slightly haughty.

But it wasn’t just the location of the image that surprised both Jack and Ianto. The detail that really shocked them was the date.

The picture was apparently taken in August 1910.


	34. Chapter 34

“1910? What the hell?”

“How old did he seem to you, Ianto?”

“Late thirties, early forties – similar to you, I guess. Looking good for one hundred plus.”

“Similar to me you say…” Jack frowned as he pondered on the various interpretations there could be of that seemingly innocuous statement. 

“I didn’t mean to say you looked old!” Ianto rolled his eyes, misreading Jack’s comment.

“No, that’s not it … I’m thinking that either he is aging really well or he’s not human. Or another possibility is that he didn’t take the long road from 1910 to now.” 

There wasn’t a single explanation for Patrick’s picture being taken one hundred years ago that didn’t ring alarm bells loud and clear.

“If his picture is in that particular file, then there must have been some cause for believing he’d come through the Rift …” Ianto reasoned, trying not to dwell on anything other than the facts. “There must be some documentation to go with this - records from the early part of the twentieth century were kept by Alice Guppy as I recall. She kept meticulous notes –”

“You’ve read Alice’s records then?” Jack could imagine what she’d written about him and wondered if Ianto had come across her diary. 

“Only those associated with items I’ve had to unearth from the archives.” Ianto noticed the wistful expression on Jack’s face. “Why, did you know her?”

“Yes, but I wasn’t her type, would you believe? Do you know if all her notes been transferred to the mainframe?”

“It’s one of the jobs I’ve been working through. Believe it or not I don’t just hang around in the Archives waiting for you to come down to molest me. However, anything regarding transport of humans through the Rift is classified information, only accessible to whoever is leader of Torchwood at any particular time.”

“The Flat Holm file? I thought I’d given you access to that?”

“I’ve got limited access to the data in the system regarding the present occupants of the facility at Flat Holm. The records of those imprisoned in the previous century are kept under lock and key. Your personal safe I assumed.”

“Of course. I won’t even bother asking how you know about that safe.”

Jack moved to the wall and pressed a concealed switch to reveal the door to a safe. It could only be opened by scanning fingerprints and retina pattern, followed by the keying in of an alphanumeric password that Jack typed in rapidly.

Jack pulled out a dusty book from the back of the safe, checked the dates on the spine and then placed it on his desk before closing the safe. He leafed through the pages until he reached the section for 1910 and then, starting in July, worked forward until Ianto spotted the entry for Patrick:

_Date of arrival: August 4th 1910_  
_Description: Male, human, no visible injuries apart from a variety of bruises, none particularly serious, 6’1” tall, dark hair, brown eyes, from Ireland judging by accent (however, adamantly denies having been born in Ireland)_  
_Name: Unknown – refuses to give his true name and had no means of identification about his person._  
_Assigned name for official purposes: Patrick O’Brien_  
_Location found: Queen Alexandra Dock, Cardiff. He was found in the docks unconscious and was thought to be a drunken dock worker. When roused, he had to be arrested for affray._  
  
_Items found when searched: a variety of objects that could be potential weapons and other peculiar devices removed and stored in vaults. Deposit box No. 7532_  


_Notes:_  
_1\. Individual lucid, yet delusional. Appears to have been conveyed to the future in the Rift and has returned with far-fetched stories (probably fabricated) and various pieces of equipment. Constabulary found him to be in possession of various strange and wondrous paraphernalia that alerted our contact to the probability that he was a case for Torchwood to deal with._  
_2\. “Patrick” was wearing unusual clothing, made from extraordinarily fine fabrics, which proved to be uncommonly tough. Application of chloroform was necessary as the man grew agitated when collected. His subsequent manner has proved most disagreeable, he has insisted, most aggressively, that we return his possessions; naturally Emily and I refused to submit to his demands and had him placed in a straitjacket._  
_3\. Questioning has proved futile, he refuses to give a true explanation for his presence, states that he is not Irish, although his accent is in direct contradiction of that fact. In my opinion, not only is he a compulsive liar, he is also potentially treacherous and as such should be eliminated post haste._  
_4\. On further consideration Emily Holroyd made the observation that Patrick recognised a particular device in the display case of her office, this being an item previously identified by Harkness as dangerous, leads us to agree that Patrick could yet prove useful to the Institute._  
_5\. Emily Holroyd has decreed that Patrick be transferred to Dublin. They have expertise in subduing the more violent of our ‘foundlings’. Letter despatched requesting personnel to convey prisoner by ferry from Holyhead to Dun Laoghaire on 8th August 1910._  
_6\. Until our people from Dublin collect Patrick he is to be incarcerated in the lower level cells and issued with reduced rations, strictly no meat, hopefully this shall break his spirit such that he will become more compliant._  
_7\. Patrick O’Brien handed over to our Dublin colleagues on 3rd September 1910._  
_8\. File closed 4th September 1910._  


As they pored over the details, Ianto leaning over Jack’s shoulder to decipher Alice Guppy’s florid handwriting on occasion, neither man noticed the warning flash up on the computer monitor they had abandoned. A warning that there had been a security breach. The following message stating that the firewall had been automatically reconfigured to seal the breach also went unnoticed, as they read on with growing concern.

“Hey, she mentioned me!”

“Where were you then? Didn’t you see him? I know that you’ve been employed by Torchwood since 1899, so surely you were in Cardiff then?”

“1910? No, I was in India. I went out to Lahore – it was still in India then – back in 1909 I guess, so I wouldn’t have been here when he was brought in. It’s only after Alex left me in charge that I found out about the people who get taken and then returned by the Rift.” 

“So, they sent him to Dublin – to Four then I presume?”

“Yes, in 1910 Torchwood 4 was somewhere in Dublin, the fourth country of the United Kingdom at the time. I’m not sure what its main function was … and then, just before the partition of Ireland, the King issued orders for it to be moved to Belfast, for security reasons, and that’s when it went missing.” 

“Shit – that means that if he was at Torchwood Dublin, there’s no way we can find out what happened to him there.”

“I guess not. So, what have we got? Those weapons and whatever else he had – they must still be in the vaults. Let’s find those and then I’ll have a better idea what we’re dealing with.” 

Jack locked Alice Guppy’s record book back in his safe and turned to take a good look at Ianto, who was looking as shocked as he felt. 

“How are you doing, Ianto?”

“Rough. I feel sick to my stomach, but I couldn’t tell you if it’s the after effects of the drugs or the findings we’ve just made.” 

Ianto shook his head and tried to ignore the pain behind his eyes. 

“Know your enemy – there’s a lot to be said for that. The more we know about him, the better chance we have of defeating him.” Jack put a hand on Ianto’s shoulder and squeezed gently, encouraging him not to give in. “OK?”

“Archives then?”

“You’ve got the number?”

“Yep, I memorised it- 7532.”

“What are we waiting for then?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jack? Come on talk to me!”

“Still no answer? Perhaps he’s busy, love.”

“No, I can’t get hold of Ianto either and nobody’s picking up the main phone.”

“Like I said, maybe he’s otherwise occupied.” Rhys rolled his eyes at how dense Gwen could be sometimes. It had been obvious to him that Jack wanted some time to be alone with Ianto.

“I don’t like it, Rhys. I’m going to call Owen and Tosh.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the fuck? Burnt – probably arson?” Owen couldn’t believe what he was hearing from Gwen. “Shit. The witness has also been got at – dead. Apparent heart attack, after his solicitor – a Mr King – visited.”

“What’s that, Owen? The yacht’s been torched?” demanded Tosh, tugging at Owen’s sleeve urgently. “Has she told Jack yet?”

“Tosh wants to know if you’ve told Jack – we can’t get through to him. You can’t either? Fuck – we’d better get back there. I’m getting a really bad case of déjà vu all over again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Here it is – secured in the vaults for almost one hundred years,” Ianto spoke softly as he wiped the dust from the top of the box. He shivered, wishing he’d stopped to grab his jacket, before being swept up in the urgency of the moment. He’d forgotten how cold it could get in the deepest reaches of the underground labyrinth of corridors and chambers.

“Let’s see what it is that Mr O’Brien was so keen on having returned to him and then we’ll get back upstairs.”  


Although Jack loved the waistcoat and rolled-up shirt sleeve look on Ianto, he could see the goose bumps on his forearms and even he was feeling the chill in the air. No wonder Ianto wore those woollen suits so often. 

Ianto carefully placed the metal box on the small table, standing back as Jack used the wire cutters to snip through the metal seal that hadn’t been tampered with since Alice Guppy had placed it there. He had a feeling that the contents of this box would hold the key to who Patrick was and why he was so anxious to break into the Hub. 

But before he could open the box they were both startled by the sound of metal scraping along stone. Then, before they could react, the solid steel blast door slammed shut loudly with a clang that echoed through the corridors and chambers deep under the base of the Hub. 

Jack’s pounding on the door with his fists did little to change the fact that they had been sealed in the vaults. At the same time the main lights went out and were replaced by flickering emergency lighting strips. As the echoes of the clanging metal faded and their screams of protest died on their lips, they could hear the fans of the air conditioning shuddering to a halt and the air became still. 

“What the fuck’s going on, Jack?”

“The Hub’s gone into total lockdown.” Jack opened his wrist strap and frantically pressed different combinations of buttons to absolutely no effect. “I can’t override it – we’re trapped.”


	35. Chapter 35

Outside the entrance to the Tourist Office, Rhys was leaning against the railings listening to the sound of waves slapping the wooden deck beneath his feet and the gulls seemingly mocking him as they dived down looking for scraps of food. Gwen was pacing up and down the boardwalk, shouting into her earpiece to no avail.

The door to the Tourist Office had been locked and despite his best attempts to force it open by barging at it, all that he’d achieved was a sore shoulder that he was now trying to rub without appearing too hapless. Gwen had given him a disappointed look, one that seemed to suggest that she was thinking of someone who could have broken the door down. Rhys hated the fact that he couldn’t live up to the larger-than-life all-action-hero she obviously idolised. 

However, Rhys took heart as he heard the language his wife was using to threaten Jack if he didn’t pick up the phone and let her into the Hub. He was also beginning to doubt his previous assumption that Jack had just wanted some alone time with Ianto. 

Gwen bit her lower lip as she looked at Rhys and then stared along the waterfront looking out for Tosh and Owen. If there was a problem, they needed to act quickly and as a team. Gwen wondered what the hell was going on, why they were locked out and what was happening to Jack and Ianto.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh fuck,” groaned Ianto. He stood next to Jack, his hands pressed flat against the cold metal door. He could feel the sweat prickling his palms as they became slick against the immovable barrier. “If the aircon has gone off, the air will run out … oh shit.”

In a futile act of desperation, Ianto slammed his fist into the unforgiving metal door and was just about to hit it once more when Jack reached out to grab hold of his hand. He should have been grateful for Jack’s intervention, otherwise he may have succeeded in breaking bones rather than just bruising knuckles.

“Hey, stop that! That won’t help. These doors are made of two-inch-thick steel.” 

Jack held onto Ianto’s hand and lifted it to his lips to kiss the heated skin. 

“We’ve got to get out of here,” implored Ianto, his voice breathless, a hint of approaching panic punctuating his words. “It’s Patrick. It has to be. He’s got into the Hub somehow. He’ll wait until we lose consciousness or even die-”

“Hush, hush, it’s going to be OK. I’m gonna get us out of here … I swear to you, Ianto. Trust me.”

Jack firmly gripped Ianto by his arms and slowly pulled him down to the floor before he collapsed. He was shaking badly now and it was vital that he calmed down. Jack could only guess at the possible effects of being trapped in the vaults on Ianto’s physical and mental welfare. He could already sense the younger man’s usual calm and collected exterior crumbling under the pressure.

“We need to sit still and use as little oxygen as we can, until we can figure out a way to get out of here.” Jack tried to sound positive, yet wasn’t convinced that he’d succeeded. 

“That’s a common misconception. It won’t be the lack of oxygen that will kill us, it’ll be the increased levels of carbon dioxide,” Ianto pointed out pedantically as he allowed himself to be propped up against the wall. He sat back and pulled his knees towards his chest.

“Damn, you’re right.” Jack sighed as he slumped down on the floor next to Ianto. “We should have some time yet before we need to panic. Let’s see, how big would you say this area is?”

“Not that big – it’s just a side chamber off the main corridor, that’s all. Probably about four metres deep from the doorway to the back wall and the open area is only about two metres wide. Ceiling is low here – just two metres I reckon… so that gives us a total volume of sixteen cubic metres.”

“Right, now carbon dioxide production by adult males – if we keep calm and don’t get stressed-”

“You are joking aren’t you? We’ve been locked into an airtight box with no bloody air and you think we can stay calm?” Ianto asked incredulously. “I really don’t think I can right now.”

“OK, let’s look on the pessimistic side if that makes you happy.” Jack resisted the urge to pout as it did make sense to work on a worst-case scenario. “If we were pounding on the door and screaming at the top of our lungs, we’d be producing, say, about 0.3 cubic metres of carbon dioxide an hour, each.”

“Right, so if we spent the time actually trying to get out of here, instead of sitting on our backsides, that would be a total of 0.6 per hour and as a percentage of the total air in the room it would reach … 3.75% in an hour …enough to make us feel decidedly unwell and –”

“7.5% in two hours – at which point we’d probably lose consciousness.”

“Lethal concentration is 10%, which we would reach after about two and half hours, three hours I suppose if we’d lost consciousness as we’d been respiring more slowly then.”

“There you go, see, not as bad as it seems, is it?” 

Jack grinned in the gloom and attempted to hug Ianto closer to his side, noting the initial resistance give way as the younger man slid his arm around Jack’s waist to hold onto him tightly. Despite his almost flippant assessment of how long they had before they’d lose consciousness and die from asphyxiation, Jack could tell that Ianto was scared and that he really didn’t want to die. That made two of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the hell kept you?” Gwen yelled as soon as she saw Owen and Tosh approaching. Her hands were firmly planted on her hips and she was almost spitting blood. Although it hadn’t been that long, but it felt like hours. 

“Trying to get answers from your bloody mates at the police station, that’s what.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Information on the solicitor, if he really was legit. We needed to get pictures off the CCTV, the phone number that was used to get in touch with him, that sort of stuff. Took longer than I thought it would.” 

Owen walked past Gwen and tried the door to the Tourist Office. 

“What’s going on here then?”

“It’s locked, I can’t open it, even with my key. Rhys tried to knock the door down, but-”

“No use I’m afraid.” Rhys shrugged apologetically.

“Not your fault mate, that door looks pathetic, but it’s tougher than it looks, a bit like the bloke that usually mans the counter in there.” 

Owen shook his head, worried that none of them had been able to raise either Ianto or Jack. The latter would ignore calls if he was busy, but the former was far too conscientious for that.

“What about the lift? Have you tried that yet?” Tosh asked Gwen.

“We were waiting for you … but if the Hub is in lockdown that won’t work either, will it?” asked Gwen, voicing her fears. 

“If it’s locked down, it’s either because Jack wanted to keep someone or something out-”

“Or someone got in that wanted to keep the rest of us out,” Owen finished the sentence for Tosh.

Owen grabbed his medical bag and ran off without saying another word. Gwen and Tosh took one look at one another and followed as quickly as they could, their heels clattering on the boardwalk as they dashed towards the Oval Basin, Rhys running behind to keep up with them, not wanting to lose sight of Gwen if there was trouble. 

A group of women with pushchairs, standing next to the brightly coloured carousel, were distracted from the gold and red ‘Galloping Horses’ by the spectacle of four people running towards the Plass and then on, like lunatics, towards the water tower. One of them thought it looked suspiciously as if the women were chasing the man in front, maybe he’d snatched their bags, so she took her mobile out of her handbag and called the police. Bastard, she thought, he’d probably taken advantage of the smaller woman. He looked very pale and shifty, and he didn’t seem to be breathing hard even though he was outrunning the women. That led her to the assumption that was a drug addict. 

“Fuck!” swore Owen as he reached the paving slab first. 

“What is it?” called out Gwen as she caught up with him, puffing as she gasped to get air into her lungs.

“He’s left a fucking calling card, that’s what!”

The top of the paving slab had been drawn on with chalk. There was a checkerboard pattern, eight squares along each side, alternate squares roughly filled in with white. Patrick had left them a message. A chessboard. He had brought his game to their base, and Jack and Ianto were trapped inside with him.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To follow on from the cliff hanger in the last chapter, I'm posting the next part early...

Deep in the bowels of the Hub, the flickering emergency lights cast eerie shadows onto the floor of the enclosed space, the unopened metal box with its wire fastening danced to and fro across the wall of sealed drawers opposite them. Jack wondered if the small, yet sturdy examination table in the centre of the room would have any effect if hurled with sufficient force at the door mechanism. He doubted it. However, one thing he was certain of was that he would survive, even if he died first. But Ianto was already showing signs of distress, no doubt exacerbated by the withdrawal effects of the drugs he’d been given. Even in the poor lighting, Jack could see Ianto’s chest heaving with the effort to get in more air. If he wasn’t careful, he would start to hyperventilate. 

“Hey there, take it easy… you need to breathe slowly, come on now.” Jack tried to soothe Ianto, and then noticed that not only was he shivering, he felt cold to the touch as well. “You cold?”

“Yep …” Ianto dragged Jack’s arm over him like a blanket, wanting to wrap himself up in the warmth of his lover.

It wasn’t surprising. Ianto was in a thin cotton dress shirt and waistcoat, whereas Jack was wearing one of his heavier duty cotton shirts over the top of an undershirt. Ianto also claimed that Jack generated as much heat as a small furnace.

Jack frowned as Ianto stifled a yawn. Drowsiness was a symptom of carbon dioxide poisoning. He had to do something to keep Ianto awake, keep him focused.

“Are you sure there’s not a way out of here? In the movies, the hero always finds something, like a trap door or a grill to a ventilation duct. There’s got to be something – come on now, think, you say you know this place better than the back of my neck-”

“That’s not the way I put it and you know it!” Ianto rolled his eyes at the image Jack was creating in his imagination. “No, there isn’t a way out. We’re in the vaults, Jack. They are secure for a reason, to stop anyone taking anything out without appropriate authorisation.”

“So, no trapdoors under the table?” Jack pulled Ianto around and into his lap, so that the younger man’s back was pressed against his chest and he could wrap his arms about him to keep him warm. He leant his chin on Ianto’s shoulder and nodded in the direction of the table.

“There are no levels below this one, so no trapdoors I’m afraid. And before you ask, the ventilation ducts are too narrow for anything bigger than a hamster to get through. So, unless you have a secret power, that I am as yet unaware of, which involves shrinking to the size of a gerbil, we’re stuffed.”

“OK, so we’re not going to crawl along the ducts together. Shame, I’d let you go in front so I could stare at your ass. But, you haven’t ruled out the existence of a concealed exit or hidden passageway behind that filing cabinet-”

“There isn’t – this is the most remote of the vaults. Goodness only knows why Alice decided to relegate those items to the deepest recesses of this part of the Hub. She must have really wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be found accidentally.”

Although Ianto couldn’t see Jack’s face, he heard a sharp intake of breath. 

“What do you think is in there?” he demanded.

“You stay here.”

Jack cursed himself for only just putting two and two together. The fact that they had been locked in here just when they had accessed something buried for the past hundred years was no coincidence. Whatever was in that box meant a hell of a lot to this Patrick guy. He gently pushed Ianto forward so that he could stand up and make his way cautiously to the table.

“Why? What don’t you want me to see?” Ianto suspected that Jack had an idea what he’d find in the box, but wasn’t prepared to tell him. He got to his feet, shivering, suddenly chilled from the removal of the source of heat and the ominous thoughts that flooded his brain.

“Just stay there, it might be dangerous.” Jack held out a hand, trying to prevent Ianto from getting too close.

“Hello?” Ianto took hold of Jack’s arm. “Trapped in an airtight room, already in danger.”

“OK, but stay behind me and if I say move, you move. Got it?” Jack tried to extract a promise from Ianto by staring at him.

“I’ll dive under the table for safety if it starts to tick. Will that do?” Ianto had to concentrate on not rolling his eyes. Otherwise Jack wouldn’t believe him.

“Not really, but there aren’t many other options I guess.”

Jack took the wire cutters from where they had been dropped earlier and cut through the steel cord that held the lid in place. Then he carefully prised open the box, revealing items that shocked him with their familiarity. Alice had done the right thing locking these things away when she did and now he had foolishly opened a virtual Pandora’s Box. 

“Fuck,” Jack swore in an uncharacteristic way, which confused the hell out of Ianto, who didn’t know whether to rush to his side in support or crawl under the table with his head in his hands. 

“Jack? What is it?”

“Not now.” Jack put a finger to his lips and then pocketed the items, before returning the box to the dusty shelf that it had been removed from.

Jack turned to take Ianto in his arms, cupping his head in one hand so his lips were brushing Ianto’s ear and whispered softly to him:

“CCTV?” 

“None – to maintain security.” Ianto had taken the hint and replied just as quietly. “But there is sound surveillance – is that why…?” Ianto trailed off as he realised that Jack didn’t want to say anything more if there was the least chance that they would be overheard.

“Sit down with me? We may as well keep warm.” Jack dragged Ianto back to the far corner of the room. 

“So you’ve finally taken my word that there aren’t any sliding panels or secret trapdoors?” Ianto sighed dramatically. 

They settled down in the corner, Jack with his back to the wall, cradling Ianto between his legs and folding his arms across the front of his body to pull him tight to his chest. Ianto was glad to be sitting down again, he’d been starting to feel dizzy and hadn’t wanted Jack to notice.

“Well, you do seem convinced that you know your way around every single inch of this place, don’t you?” 

“I do … I definitely know more about it than you do.” Ianto smiled as he rested back into Jack’s embrace.

“I’ll have to put that to the test when this is all over.” Jack couldn’t resist a challenge, even though he knew that Ianto was just playing along with him for the benefit of any possible eavesdroppers. 

“How do you propose to do that?” Ianto twisted around to look Jack in the eye.

“Hide and seek,” Jack smirked.

“Isn’t that rather childish, even for you?”

“Not the way I play it.”

“Dare I ask?”

“Take it in turn to hide – if found within the allotted time, you have to remove an item of clothing, the person that ends up naked first has to submit to whatever the other person wants to do with them or to them… in the location where they are finally found …”

“You just made that up, didn’t you?” Ianto had enough experience of Jack’s games to know when he was making up the rules as he went along. He always bloody cheated. 

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t play it that way.” Jack lifted his chin defiantly. 

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“What d’you say? Interested?”

Ianto didn’t reply straight away. He was beginning to wonder if the conversation had really taken place or whether he’d just imagined it. But they were no longer sitting by the door, so they must have moved at some point. Trying to work out how he’d got from one end of the room to the other just made his head hurt, so he let it fall back onto Jack’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

“Ianto? Are you paying attention? Or are you just trying to get out of playing the game because you know you’ll lose?” Jack ruffled Ianto’s hair, worried that he was drifting off.

“Game?” Ianto sounded muddled and ever so slightly breathless.

“Naked hide and seek?” Jack stroked his hair back into place and gently kissed his head.

“Now?”

“No, there aren’t enough places to hide in here.” Jack didn’t let on that he had noticed Ianto becoming less focused. “Anyway, you don’t have your stopwatch, which means you’ll only accuse me of cheating. I was thinking of one night when I’ve sent the kids home early.”

“If I survive this, then yes, why not.” Ianto was glad that Jack was with him, his warmth surrounding him like a vibrant security blanket. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I imagine you would, sir.”

Even though Jack had been attempting to distract Ianto from the fact that the air quality was rapidly diminishing, it did occur to him that the whole concept of naked hide and seek had a lot of potential and he would regret it if he never got the chance to work on the rules in practice. 

Meanwhile he held Ianto closer, knowing that if this bastard intended for them to die, he’d succeed in killing his lover and then Jack would make sure he took revenge. It was always possible that he just wanted to wait until they passed out. Either way there was nothing he could do to protect Ianto, all he could do was hold him close and make sure he knew how he felt about him. 

“Hey there, you still awake?” Jack whispered. Ianto had been getting heavier it seemed as he began to lose consciousness. His breathing was becoming more laboured and his forehead was damp with sweat.

Jack thought it best to let him sleep. Better to slip away unaware than the alternative. Was it his right to let him die without a chance to scream at the injustice of it all? Yes, because he would scream on his behalf. He’d yell and shout, and curse anyone that tried to stop him until his throat bled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the door stood a tall, slim-built man, wearing a long, dark coat. He had been listening with interest to the muttered conversation inside this vault that he’d eventually located. He smiled grimly as he pushed up the sleeve of his coat and unclipped the cover of a wide, tanned leather strap that circled his wrist.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Re-posted - longer. Instead of 2 short chapters, one longer one.

The air was becoming staler by the minute, which didn’t make sense, unless there had already been high levels of carbon dioxide in the room before they had been sealed inside. It was then that Jack recalled a requisition for an improved air conditioning system for the archives and vaults. Ianto had been badgering him for months about the stuffy working conditions down here. Yet again, Jack realised that he really ought to pay better attention to the requests made of him by the man cradled in his arms. For the sake of approving the installation of a new system and subsequent application of Retcon to the contractors involved, they could have had at least another hour. 

Jack was starting to feel dizzy and was fighting desperately to stay conscious; he was frightened that he’d fall asleep only to wake to find Ianto’s dead body in his arms. He began to rock the limp body to and fro, moving more and more erratically as if struggling to hold onto the present. As Ianto slid from his lap he let him down gently onto the floor and then crouched over him, staring at his face, eyes closed and lips parted as he drew in one ragged breath after another. The cuts on his face were beginning to heal, although the bruising was still purplish on his cheekbone. 

Without stopping to think, Jack bent down and pressed his mouth to Ianto’s, with the fervent desire to impart not only his love, but also whatever life force he could spare in a kiss. It had worked before and he desperately needed it to work this time. Slowly he exhaled, gently forcing his breath into the lungs of his ailing lover. Running his fingers through the sweat-damp hair, he knew he couldn’t just let Ianto slip away. He kept kissing until eventually a flickering of eyelids signalled a shifting of the balance towards consciousness and life.

“Ianto, please wake up, please,” gasped Jack, breathlessly. “I need you. Please.”

But the exertion was all it took to send Jack, too, into darkness. He collapsed over Ianto, oblivious to the creaking sound that the door made as it slowly slid back into the recess of the wall. The sound of metal scraping against stone was strident and harsh, but it failed to wake either man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, there isn’t any other way of getting into your base apart from through that rundown Tourist Office or a paving slab next to the water tower?” demanded Rhys with more than a hint of incredulity.

“There’s the garage entrance, under the Millennium Centre,” answered Gwen, shaking her head. “But if the Hub’s locked down, it’ll be sealed as well.”

“How long has Torchwood been here?” Rhys frowned as he looked across the open area towards the Pierhead Building.

“Since Victorian times, according to Ianto,” replied Tosh, wondering what Rhys was thinking of. “He once said it was set up in the 1890’s.”

“Right, so that was when this was the Oval Basin. There would’ve been coal docks right here,” Rhys stated emphatically. “There was no water tower then and definitely no flipping tourists in Cardiff. So how the bloody hell did they get in then?”

“That’s a fucking good question,” chipped in Owen, who was staring at the checkerboard grid angrily. “But, I haven’t got a bloody clue.” 

“I bet Ianto would know,” said Tosh, quietly, almost as if she was thinking out loud. 

As the others argued pointlessly amongst themselves, Tosh’s mind began to race as she recalled a conversation that she’d had with Ianto a while back, about a history of Torchwood that he’d been joking about writing. He’d jokingly referred to it as the ‘Dark Ages of Torchwood, Cardiff’. She was sure he’d said something about there being stairways leading down from the cellars of various local businesses. There were also the tracks from the underground railway. There had to be other access routes. She knew for a fact that Jack had a way to get onto the roof of the Millennium Centre without being spotted. 

“There!” Tosh yelled, pointing at the massive structure that perched on the edge of the Plass. 

“What?” demanded Gwen, totally confused by her colleague’s excited reaction.

“The Millennium Centre! Jack has a way up onto the roof from the Hub. If we can get up onto the roof, we should be able to get in from there.”

“Yes!” exclaimed Gwen. “He took me up there on my first day.” 

Gwen smiled as the memory came back to her.

“He what?” Rhys looked from the towering edifice to his wife with annoyance. No wonder she’d come home all distant and moody. Bloody Harkness.

“It was ages ago now, love,” soothed Gwen, taking hold of Rhys’ hand. 

Having seen the vestiges of jealousy start to cloud her husband’s eyes, Gwen felt the need to reassure him that there was no longer cause for concern. Although at the time, it had been so hard to resist the charms of her new boss. If Jack had invited her into his bed that day, she’d have leapt at the opportunity and not thought twice. 

“Great, so the only way in is to get up on that bloody roof and find Jack’s secret trapdoor into Torchwood.” Owen scowled as he stared up at the curved copper roof. 

“Come on then! What are we waiting for?” yelled Gwen as she rushed across to the foyer of the Millennium Centre, hoping that her Torchwood ID would gain access to the top of the building.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack took a deep gulp of air as he woke; surprised to find it cool and fresh, no longer stale. He was also shocked to find himself securely tied to a wooden chair. Without lifting his head, he glanced from side to side and saw only plain brick walls. However, as he looked up, his suspicions were confirmed as he took in the scratched Plexiglas wall, perforated in places with ventilation holes. 

“You’re a heavy bastard, you know. Might want to lose some weight. I nearly injured myself dragging your carcass in here.”

Beyond the cell wall sat the man who had got past all their defences. He had made himself comfortable on one of the upholstered chairs that Owen kept to one side for when he had to spend time observing new detainees. 

“Whereas you’re just a bastard.” Jack twisted his neck trying to see if Ianto was in the cell with him and was alarmed to find that he was alone. “What have you done with Ianto?” 

“Nothing.” Patrick’s lips stretched into a parody of a smile that failed to reach his eyes. “Yet.”

“Where is he?” Jack thought with horror that he may have been left in the vault by himself.

“In the cell next door.”

“Ianto? You there?” yelled Jack.

There was no reply.

“If he’s there, why isn’t he answering me?” Jack struggled against the bindings that held him firmly to the chair. “What have you done to him?”

“Oh, he’s there alright, just not awake yet.”

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Fine, I’ll prove it to you, and then we can have a nice chat.”

Patrick walked across to the cell adjacent to Jack’s and pressed the release panel on the keypad to unlock the door. Although he could no longer see Patrick, Jack heard a scraping sound as a wooden chair was dragged across the floor on its back legs. The chair was slammed down hard, inches away from the transparent wall in front of him, to make sure Jack couldn’t miss a single detail. 

Ianto had also been tied up, but his head was slumped forward onto his chest, and he was showing no sign of waking up, which worried Jack. Patrick grabbed hold of Ianto’s hair and wrenched his head up, but it wasn’t until he was slapped about the face that his eyes flickered and then opened, wide with terror. Jack could tell that he was having trouble focussing and wondered, with dread, if he’d been drugged again.

“Ianto? Are you OK?” Jack asked urgently, needing to know what the hell Patrick had done to him. 

“He’s fine, so far. Good of you to join us, Ianto. Now before I’m tempted to exact Biblical revenge, you know, an eye for an eye and all that, I’m going to put you back in your cell while me and the Captain here have a little discussion.” Patrick drew a fingertip across Ianto’s face, tracing a path across his forehead, over an eyelid and down the unmarked cheek. 

Jack watched as the effects of Patrick’s words and actions hit home, causing Ianto to blanch with fear. He then took a close look at the scar that disfigured the man’s face and came to the only conclusion possible: Ianto had caused it. The fear that Ianto would suffer a similar fate struck Jack like a blow to the gut. 

“Don’t you dare hurt him!” 

“Touching, but you’re hardly in a position to prevent me doing whatever I want to him. However, there are other pressing matters to deal with first. The outcome of those will determine his fate.”

Without waiting to hear Jack’s response, Patrick hauled the chair with Ianto back into the other cell. As Ianto was dragged away, Jack managed to make eye contact long enough to get across the unspoken declaration that he would make this right, he would do whatever it took to save Ianto.

“We need to talk,” stated Patrick as he took his seat. “You call yourself Jack, isn’t that right?”

“I’ve been Captain Jack Harkness for longer than you’ve been Patrick O’Brien by all accounts.”

“Ah, touché.”

“You’re not Irish at all, are you?”

“About as Irish as you’re American, Jack.”

“Really?” Jack raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

“Oh yes.”

Then Patrick stood up and took his long overcoat off, revealing an outfit that made Jack even more curious, he was wearing an anachronistic combination of a collarless shirt made of a soft white fabric, a dark red, heavily brocaded waistcoat, skin tight black trousers and a pair of tall black leather boots. He cut a fine figure and the way he moved gracefully showed that he was all too aware of that fact. Knowing that this man had tormented Ianto, interfered with his memories and would have got him addicted to heroin if Tosh hadn’t effected a rescue, all served to make Jack immune to his allure. However, the one thing that Jack couldn’t fail to be drawn to was the leather strap around his wrist. It was darker than his and looked more worn, a different model – but it undoubtedly served the same function.

“Time Agency?” asked Jack nonchalantly. 

The artefacts that Jack had taken from the container in the vault had already led Jack to the conclusion that the Time Agency were involved. He was aware of the items pressing against his thigh, deep in the pocket of his trousers. There was always the possibility that Patrick may have just chanced upon those items, but the possession of the vortex manipulator strap, well worn and looking for all the world as if it was part of the other man’s arm? That was the clincher, whatever his identity was, his occupation and origins were indisputable. 

“No wonder you knew your way around a rift manipulator.”

“That damn thing only opens portals from the past, one-way only. Fundamentally useless. I was hoping your Miss Sato could fix it for me, I’ve read about her expertise, but she just sabotaged it. Bitch. I’ll make sure she pays for that.”

“It’s Dr Sato.” Jack wasn’t going to rise to the bait; he knew that Tosh and the others were safe.

“Do I look as if I care? It was just a toy anyway to tease you with, draw you out into the open and it worked.” Patrick crossed one long leg over the other, his ankle resting on his thigh, as he smirked cruelly at Jack. “You are such an easy man to play, it’s barely a challenge. You’ve been out of your own time too long, you’ve gone native.”

“What the hell are you doing here and what do you want?” Jack never reacted well to being taunted. His usual response of flirting with the enemy wasn’t an option, not when said enemy had threatened Ianto. This only left direct questioning of motives. 

“It’s a long story. As for what I want? Let’s put it this way, if you care for that young man in the cell next to yours half as much as I think you do, then you’ll do everything in your power to make sure I get exactly what I want.”

“Threats aren’t usually the best way to gain my co-operation you know.” Jack raised his chin defiantly as he stared at Patrick. 

“On the contrary, I’ve been watching you long enough to know just how to get you to do what I want.” Patrick reached into his pocket and withdrew a small flick knife that he opened with a crisp snapping sound and held it out so the light glinted off the sharpened blade. “Let’s keep it simple. I’ll explain why I’m here and what it is I want and then if you refuse to help, I’ll find out just what it takes to make Ianto scream.”

“There’s no need for that – just tell me your damn story!” Jack dreaded to think what state Ianto was in, but the sadistic grin that Patrick was directing at the other cell did not bode well. 

“You want a story? Here goes - once upon a time, far, far away, on a planet not so very far from the one that you were born on, I’d imagine, I worked for the Time Agency.”

“I kinda figured that bit out. When?”

“Early fifty-second century. By then there were very few of us left.”

Jack tried not to react as if he’d already heard that information from another source. He had got complacent in his years in the twentieth century and wasn’t used to dealing with someone from his own era, especially anyone proving to be more devious and conniving than he had ever been, as his recent experiences with an ex-partner would seem to attest. However, he hadn’t forgotten that the best cons were those wrapped in an essence of truth. 

“Seems like someone had been wanting rid of us for a while, accidents kept happening – agents would disappear in time or get trapped in time loops and never come back. More and more instances cropped up of employees of the Agency losing years’ worth of memories. There were rumours that some agents just used these tales as a cover – an escape route to avoid being eliminated. Is that what you did?”

“This isn’t about me, it’s your story – go on.” Jack had no intention of telling Patrick anything of his own history, although the mention of missing memories was becoming a recurring theme that bothered him immensely. 

“A group of us were employed to trace missing Time Agents. I was assigned to investigate some unaccountable tracks of vortex transport that were unregistered, never properly logged. These were impressive leaps, in terms of time and space, the sort that made your teeth itch just to think about.” 

Patrick got up from his seat and slowly strolled closer to Jack’s cell until he was able to lean on the window. Speaking conspiratorially, he spoke directly to Jack. 

“You won’t believe this, Jack, but there was one that apparently originated about a hundred trillion years in the future – amazing huh? But that’s not all – its spatial trajectory was from the planet Malcassairo to Earth, fancy that. Terminating early in the twenty first century. Pretty fucking incredible, don’t you think?”

_Shit – thought Jack - that could only have been when the Doctor modified his wrist strap to transport the two of them and Martha Jones back from the end of the universe to London. That had been a pretty impressive jump._

Jack failed in his belated attempts not to react to the news that his journey through time and space had been detected. He was unable to stop the beads of sweat that appeared on his brow or the fact that he was breathing faster and his heart was racing. Now he thought about it, he wasn’t surprised that it caught the attention of the Time Agency, especially if their monitoring had become more sophisticated since he had last worked for them. 

“Not that long ago was it? You’re looking confused, Ianto – didn’t you know about that?” Patrick asked casually.

“Jack?” Ianto swallowed hard, trying to keep track of the story that Patrick was weaving, which wasn’t easy with a splitting headache and cramp making his arms hurt. “What is he going on about?”

“Pay no attention to him, Ianto. He’s fishing with the wrong bait. I’ve no idea what he’s talking about.” Jack hoped that Ianto would forgive him for lying, but he really didn’t want any mention of Time Lords or the Doctor to enter this discussion.

“He’s lying to you, Ianto. Surely you deserve better than that? After all you’ve done for him, his most loyal of manservants.” 

Patrick stepped to the side to look into Ianto’s cell, contemplating his next move carefully. Smiling without humour, he turned to back to his seat and reached into his coat pocket to pull out a leather object. 

“This is Jack’s wrist strap – I’m sure you recognise it, Ianto. I took the liberty of downloading the data regarding all the trips he’s taken with it, quite the tourist it would seem. He really has been around the block a few times. I do hope you had your medic test him before you let him stick his dick in you, fuck knows what he’s put it in on his travels.” 

Patrick let his poisonous words sink in, knowing that sowing the seeds of distrust always bore noxious fruit, however scant a harvest. He had planted some ideas in Ianto’s head a long time ago and despite a violent rejection at the time of some of his propositions, he was confident that he could resurrect some antipathy towards Harkness if he probed the weakest point in their relationship. He sensed that Jack’s past and his travels were the source of that vulnerability. 

Ianto said nothing, but knew what Patrick was trying to do. He had to believe that Jack had a reason for lying to him. If Jack really had made that sort of journey through time it had probably been when he had left with the Doctor, and he still hadn’t divulged much about that trip.

“Anyway, as I was saying, a leap like that doesn’t stay unnoticed, especially when its signal is way off and the nearest matching one belonged to an agent that went AWOL and hadn’t been heard of in a while.”

“Why do you think I would have been travelling from a planet on the edge of the universe to twenty-first century Earth?”

“I have no idea. But seeing as it preceded an event not unlike a massive time paradox, there were questions being asked as it did appear that the person or persons using that particular Time Agent’s wrist strap was involved with a major disruption in the time space continuum.”

“Jack-?” Ianto’s voice was shaking in a way that was not making Jack feel any calmer about this whole conversation. 

“Trust me here, Ianto. I’ll tell you what you need to know as soon as I get the chance, but please believe me, I’m not guilty of whatever he’s trying to pin on me.”

“Keep trying to convince yourself.” Patrick grinned. He was creating just the sort of division he had hoped for, he had forced Harkness into acting like a man with something to hide. “Anyway, back to the facts. Further investigation brought up some more interesting details – the same vortex manipulator had previously been used in a jump from the two hundred and first century back to the nineteenth century. Again, my preliminary checking of your strap verifies this to have been the case. The weirdest thing is that there is absolutely no indication of any other activity in the interim chronological time frame. That strikes me as rather odd, don’t you think?”

“You tell me.” Jack knew what he was getting at. The bastard was asking how he’d travelled in time and space twice without using his own vortex manipulator. Jack gulped as he took in what Patrick was saying. His trips with the Doctor hadn’t been detected although the jumps made with the vortex manipulator in the wrist strap had and those two had both been long distance in terms of time and space. They were the sort of journeys that could only be officially undertaken with permits. It occurred to Jack that Patrick must have been one of the Time Agency’s inspectorate. 

“You know damn well – it’s all here.” Patrick waved the strap in the air. “Both journeys logged and recorded in the data chip. Pity the strap isn’t fully functional anymore, but I can still use it for parts.” 

“That sounds like you’ve got problems with your own wrist strap. Is that it? You’re trapped here?” 

“I’ll get to that when I’m ready. Now, like I said before, it was my job to investigate the anomalous readings and report to the Director. He wasn’t happy at all. Further enquiries showed there to be activity consistent with that vortex manipulator – your one as I now know for certain – and one other, frequent shorter trips in this particular year. Several in fact, and here’s a surprise for you - some yet to be made. Looks like you’re about to hit the road again, Jack and by the looks on young Ianto’s face, you haven’t told him about your travel plans.”

“What plans? You said you were staying.” Ianto had images of Jack disappearing once more, maybe with his precious Doctor, or that bastard Hart, maybe even to find whoever Gray was. He couldn’t keep the pleading note out of his voice, even though Jack had asked him to trust him, Ianto had to know whether he had meant what he said.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ianto, I swear to you.” Jack wondered why Ianto didn’t trust him and then Owen’s words came back to him, making it clear that there was nothing he could give Ianto to avert the drug-induced paranoia. Patrick was playing them both.


	38. Chapter 38

“Ianto?” Jack called out urgently as he tugged against the cords immobilising his arms.

It was nerve-wracking to be within earshot, yet unable to see one another. It meant that not only was he was unable to reassure Ianto by eye contact, he was also totally unaware of just how badly these revelations were affecting him. All Jack had to go on were the occasional heart felt pleas for answers and even those were probably just the tip of an iceberg of doubt that he was doing his best to conceal from Patrick. 

Meanwhile, Ianto could hear from the tone of Jack’s voice that he was desperate for him to trust him, not to question and not to doubt. But Patrick was watching him so very carefully and smiling secretively. He had moved closer to the window of Ianto’s cell, out of sight of Jack, and he mouthed just three words to Ianto, words he knew would have an impact:

“Told you so.”

Patrick then slammed the flat of his hand against the plexiglass, making it shake and Ianto jump. 

The medication that Owen had given Ianto had long since worn off and he was feeling more than a little jittery. Although his arms were held tight to his sides, he was still shivering, partly from the cold air in the cells and partly from the aches that seemed to permeate his very bones. He was also struggling with cramping pains that coursed through the muscles of his arms and legs. He idly wondered if he could rock the chair until it toppled over and if that would give him any relief. Maybe he could knock himself out if he aimed it at the hard bench that served as a bed to the usual inmates.

With a start, Ianto realised that Patrick was observing him with great interest, as if he knew exactly what he was thinking. He stared back and tried to make it perfectly clear that he was not relinquishing one jot of his loyalty to Jack. 

“I don’t care what he says, Jack,” asserted Ianto loudly. “If you have to go anywhere I know you’ll have a good reason.”

“No need to worry about that just yet, Ianto. Your Jack’s not going to be escaping any time soon. If I have anything to do with it, that will be a path he’s not going to be travelling, with or without the company of an old partner of his.”

Ianto frowned, wondering if Patrick was referring to John Hart.

“Ah yes, you know who I mean don’t you? My original mission was to intercept a Time Agent responsible for transgressions against the Temporal Integrity Protocol.” Patrick then turned to face Jack directly. “There’s a reward for both you and that other agent you’re in league with. I missed the bastard once, he slipped into a time loop like he does, but I’ll be waiting for him the next time he shows up.”

It was no trick of telepathy that led to both Jack and Ianto having the same thoughts flash through their minds, even though Ianto’s were fraught with loathing whilst Jack’s were tempered with frustration.

John Hart? What the hell had he done, or more to the point what was he about to do?

“So, you’re a jumped-up bounty hunter? Is that all this is about?” Jack sneered. “Because in the past I’ve always managed to come up with a better proposition than whatever the official reward had to offer.”

“Are you offering me your body, Jack? No thanks, even after all this time I don’t miss your type. Too damn easy- no fun at all. Now me, I prefer the thrill of the hunt, the struggle for control. But I’m sure if it came to it, you could think of a better offer to make me.” 

Patrick stared at Ianto as he ran the tip of his tongue over his upper lip, this time making sure Jack could see him.

“Go to hell,” Jack hissed as he envisaged what Patrick had in mind. There had to be something he could do to protect Ianto, but he had no idea what it was.

“Like I told Miss – no, sorry – Doctor Sato, been there and got the souvenirs. No, I am not a bloody bounty hunter. For fuck’s sake, if only it was that simple. Locating you was the easy part. There were traces left from more than one wrist strap – possibly three, but then again one of those could have been mine - from the late 19th through to the early 21st century on Earth. Specifically, this region and most of it in this damn city. Too much of a coincidence – so I was delegated the task of travelling back to ascertain just what the hell was going on and to apprehend the agents concerned and bring them in for justice.”

“Something went wrong, didn’t it?” Jack sensed that Patrick wouldn’t have turned up in 1910 – almost one hundred years too early to catch both him and John – unless there had been a problem.

“You could say that.” Patrick gave Jack a thin-lipped grin. “Must have been a damn trap, because once I got to this godforsaken backwater, my own device malfunctioned. Sabotaged I reckon, power shorted out as soon as I arrived. Either that or your pet wormhole here screwed up the interface and threw me off by about a hundred years. So, I was stuck in Cardiff in 1910 and I couldn’t get home. My mistake was getting drunk. That’s when Alice and Emily found me.”

“Lucky you,” muttered Jack. If had been anyone else, Jack would have expressed his sympathies to a fellow victim of Alice and Emily.

“I take it from your expression that you got a similar welcome from those sadistic bitches?” 

“Their reputation lives on. Everyone at Torchwood knows about them – even Ianto, isn’t that right?” Jack didn’t really require an answer from Ianto, but he did need to hear him say something. Ianto had gone very quiet and after Patrick’s barely veiled threat, Jack was becoming increasingly worried about him. 

“Yes, sir.” Ianto’s voice sounded odd, as if his throat was tight. He was also reverting to formality, which meant he was stressed. “Guppy and Holroyd were quite the team so I hear. Although their methods weren’t for the fainthearted by all accounts.”

“Too true, they threw me in one of these bloody cells and tortured me. Only there were iron bars instead of glass.” Patrick had been pacing again and had come to stand outside Jack’s cell this time. “There was nothing I could do. The indignity of being captured by two primitives was bad enough, but they’d taken all my belongings except my wrist strap, silly bitches. No tool kit to effect repairs, no minicomp and no weapons. Talking of which, I assume that you retrieved those items for me and I’ll have them back later if that’s alright with you, Jack?”

Jack swore under his breath; it made perfect sense that Patrick would know exactly where those items were, he was just surprised that he hadn’t searched him for them before. As soon as he’d seen the contents of the box he’d recognised them as standard issue items possessed by most Time Agents. The fact that Patrick hadn’t found them on him before tying him up meant that he was probably working on his own and had to work fast to secure both him and Ianto before either of them regained consciousness. That had to be to their advantage. He just didn’t know how, yet.

“Maybe I’d like them for myself, add to my collection. They look like the kind of thing I’d like to keep.”

“I suspect you’d like it even better if your playmate retained stereoscopic vision?” 

Patrick waved his knife in front of his face and then used it to score a deep line across the window of Jack’s cell.

“Point taken.” Jack suppressed a shiver as he noted that Patrick didn’t waste a single opportunity to make a direct threat to Ianto. 

“Right then, where were we? Alice and Emily – may they rot in hell. You’ll have seen my Torchwood files then, I take it? I only ever got as far as my picture on your system, but at least I managed to tag it with a tracking program that activated a signal to my wrist strap once it was accessed.”

“Very clever – so my curiosity turned out lucky for you.” Jack had wondered at the coincidental appearance of Patrick in the Hub as soon as he had actually tracked him down. Once this was all over, he’d also have to find out just how he’d got inside and triggered a lock down.

Patrick smiled without humour as he returned to the chair he had positioned so that he could watch both men at once.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. Trust me, I’ve been playing the most patient waiting game you could possibly imagine.” 

“Actually, I have a pretty good imagination when it comes to waiting for the right moment in time,” responded Jack. “But, seeing as you don’t appear to have aged that much since that photo was taken, I’m thinking you took a short cut along the way.” 

Despite the increased longevity experienced by most citizens in the fifty first century as a consequence of improved health care and genetic engineering, Patrick didn’t look as if he was anywhere close to a hundred years old. 

“What happened in Ireland?” demanded Jack.

“I’ll not bore you with the details, suffice it to say I got hold of some useful kit from the time I spent in Dublin before I decided to take my leave,” Patrick smiled to himself as if recalling memories of his time in Ireland. “They were distracted by politics you could say.”

“Were you responsible for the disappearance of Four?” Jack asked incredulously. He raised his eyebrows and seriously considered the possibility that the reason Torchwood Four had vanished without trace was the result of this man’s actions. 

“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you. But trust me, this world’s no worse off without them. But you’re right about not hanging around – there was no way I was going to sit through the twentieth century. I managed to recharge the power supply enough to facilitate a small jump in time, I was hoping to be in London in time to greet you and your friends as you popped in from your trillion-year marathon. I figured that I could use your wrist strap to get the pair of us back to the Agency. Thought I’d succeeded in homing my Vortex manipulator onto a major temporal shift at the start of the twenty first century, assumed it would be you, but no such bloody luck. Instead I found myself in the centre of a faceoff between Daleks and Cybermen.” 

“Canary Wharf,” stated Jack almost gleefully. Then the implication suck in.

Jack gasped as he understood finally what circumstances had caused Patrick’s path to cross with Ianto’s. He was only there because he’d been trying to track down Jack. If he hadn’t been there, he wondered just what would have become of Ianto. He shuddered as it occurred to him that there could never have been a good outcome, all things considered. 

“Yes – bloody idiots had ripped a tear wide open into the Void. The place was going to hell, literally. I thought that maybe I could get in while Torchwood were distracted, figured I could scavenge something useful, something that could get me back to my own bloody time and to hell with the fucking rewards. You’ll never guess what I found.”

“Me and Lisa?” asked Ianto, his voice shaking with emotion. 

“You and a semi-mechanised, living corpse would be a more accurate description.”

“You told me you could help!” Ianto struggled to recall all that had happened, but it was mostly a nightmarish blur. “You promised me that if I got you into Cardiff you would be able to reverse the process. You lied to me.”

“You were out of your mind with denial and grief. Vulnerable and desperate. You’d have believed anything anyone told you that would have given you a glimpse of hope. I could have got you to do anything if you thought it would save your beloved Lisa.”

“You used him,” Jack growled, menace in his voice as he heard the other side to the story that Ianto had already told him. 

“And you didn’t? Don’t be such a fucking hypocrite. The only reason you took him under your wing was to get in his pants – like I said, I know your type.”

“You don’t know me at all, because if you did, you’d know that you really didn’t want me as an enemy.” 

Jack was angry, not only at Patrick, but at himself. That bastard was using the facts against him. Whilst Jack could have treated lies with contempt, the truths were beginning to hit home and they stung. 

“Oh really? I’m not the one tied up in one of my own fucking cells!”

“Yeah, well all I’m getting out of you is some sob story about how badly Torchwood treated you, taking your toys away and then sending you to Ireland, where all you managed to do was skip a few decades and get stuck again. If you’re such a damn hot shot Time Agency high flyer, why the fuck are you stuck here and now?”

“I wouldn’t still be here if that pathetic sap in the cell next to you hadn’t fallen for your bloody charms. He bloody well refused to betray you once he’d got what was left of his girlfriend wired up in your basement,” snarled Patrick, getting visibly angrier by the minute. “He even tried to convince me that you were a decent man and that you were the rightful leader of Torchwood Three, and that he was going to tell you everything. He was ready to throw himself on your mercy. Huh! Your prick more like! What’s more, he even thought I’d just leave him alone to get on with his life.” 

“What happened? What did you do to him?” Jack dreaded the answers, but he hadn’t failed to notice that Patrick’s voice had lost some of its control, he was at last unveiling the causes of his deep-seated hatred of Ianto and even though the vehemence with which he spoke sent spikes of fear through Jack’s subconscious, he needed to know the full truth. 

“Even when I tried to be my most persuasive … if you know what I mean … instead of begging for mercy and agreeing to get me into this bloody place, oh no, he managed to take my own bloody knife and do this!” Patrick pointed in the direction of his empty eye socket. 

The memories flooded into Ianto’s psyche like a backwash of filthy sewer water… images of Patrick pushing him against a wall and hitting him… grabbing him brutally… then the cold metal against his throat as Patrick tried to take him by force, that’s when he’d spun round, adrenaline fuelling his strength… he’d twisted Patrick’s arm and taken the knife. He recalled lashing out in desperation and seeing blood… The screams came back to him – both his and Patrick’s. Then the darkness as he was beaten about the head until he lost consciousness. 

Jack heard sounds of distress from Ianto’s cell. He didn’t want to think about whatever memories had been brought back to the surface. If he had hated Patrick before, he had even more reason to want to kill him now. But he bit his tongue rather than ask for more details – it could only cause Ianto more pain and as he was in no position to offer comfort. There was nothing he could do but change the subject fast.

“The Torchwood Institute renegades – Gates? What about them? Did you work for them?” 

“On the contrary, they worked for me.” Patrick said smugly as he observed Ianto shaking more violently and knowing that he was the cause. “They just didn’t know it at the time. I let them have their Pharm, playing with drugs and diseases, and their underground base in the caves. Funded them and all I asked for was this place. They failed.” 

“You really expect me to believe that all that time, all you wanted was to get back in here?” Jack asked incredulously. 

“There were things I needed that could only be accessed by whoever had control of the Cardiff branch of Torchwood. I tried to get you out by force and then by discrediting you – I even had Gates mentally work over Ianto for me, who turned out to be much more resilient than we suspected. Although I should have known he’d fight back given enough motivation. Never for himself though, just for others, self-sacrificing idiot that he is.”

Jack’s resolve to keep the discussion away from Ianto was now broken. This bastard had orchestrated every attempt to destroy Ianto from behind the scenes and Jack wanted some answers. 

“What did you do to Ianto to make him forget about you until now?”

“The usual – a combination of electricity, pharmaceuticals and a dash of aversion therapy thrown in for good measure. I wanted to make sure an appropriate trigger would bring it all back, just in case I could manage to persuade him to change his mind again in the future. Also, when I get my revenge, I want him to remember what he did to deserve it.”

Ianto was still reeling from the onslaught of deeply buried painful memories, but despite the turbulence roaring in his head, he was getting the distinct impression that the only reason he’d ended up in Cardiff with Lisa was because of something that Jack had done with either John Hart or the Doctor, something that had brought the equivalent of the Time Agency Inspectorate crashing down on him. 

Breathing heavily, Ianto’s mind fought with the intricate web that had apparently spun strands across several dimensions, including time and space, upon which he had become an unwitting victim, caught in its sticky silk, his dreams poisoned, as his body was left embalmed in a cocoon and put to one side to be dealt with later. But if Jack was the weaver of the silken web, he hadn’t done so intentionally, and the spider with murder in mind was the one staring at him with a malevolent gleam in his one functional eye.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, it's been a while since the last update. Was in London, working last weekend. Having walked across Waterloo Bridge from the Strand to the railway station on many an occasion, I can only too easily imagine the horror of last week's events on nearby Westminster Bridge.  
>  In light of those events, I feel that I should issue a warning of the content of this chapter, where one of the team is a victim of knife violence. 
> 
> Extra long edition - as I am editing, I am condensing chapters that were split when last posted.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Standing on the roof of the Millennium Centre, Owen was glad he couldn’t feel the cold. The others were holding their jackets tightly around their bodies, scant protection from the buffeting wind that was blowing a gale in from the sea.

“Come on Gwen, you said you’d been up here with him,” grumbled Owen. “You sure that wasn’t some fantasy you dreamed up?”

“I’m not sure which I’d prefer to be honest,” muttered Rhys, bracing himself against the wind. He wondered just what Jack Harkness had been doing with his Gwen out of sight of everyone. 

“Rhys – for goodness sake when are you going to let that go?” Gwen snapped at Rhys and then regretted it immediately. It wasn’t the time to tackle the undercurrent of jealousy and macho posing that surrounded the interactions between the two men she loved. “To be honest it was a while ago now and it all looks the same up here. All I know is that there was a sliding panel that he sort of slid back at the top of a ladder.”

Gwen didn’t really want to confess that, at the time, the thrill of being taken by the arm and swept away with Jack to the roof of the Millennium Centre had completely bedazzled her. She could barely recall the practical details of how they actually managed to get from the Hub to the roof top. She had no trouble visualising Jack’s strong arms steadying her as she swayed with a sudden attack of vertigo, or the sound of his voice, warm and vibrant in the cold air. Such was her euphoria at being offered a job, working with Jack, that she hadn’t been paying attention to stairs, ladders or secret panels. 

Owen and Rhys stared at her with accusation in their faces, wondering how exactly this jaunt to the top of the Millennium Centre was going to help Jack and Ianto who had been trapped inside the Hub for at least a couple of hours, if not longer. It had taken long enough to persuade the security and management to allow them access to the roof in the first place. It hadn’t made Gwen feel any better realising that Jack would have just stormed through, not bothering to ask permission in the first place. It wouldn’t be the first time that she resented his ability to take on any storm in his stride; she just hoped it wouldn’t be the last. Owen hadn’t helped with his protests that they were wasting time, colourfully expressed with so many expletives that not only had the air had almost turned blue, but they were almost forcibly evicted from the lobby where their presence was proving to be a distraction from a lunchtime performance of a tune from Mary Poppins.

Gwen roughly brushed away the hair that was whipping at her face and fought to get hold of the situation that was spiralling out of her control. 

“Here – I’ve found something!” Tosh yelled out at them as she ran her scanner over the surface of a particularly shiny tile. From her handbag, she withdrew the device that opened locks, at which point Owen cursed loudly.

“Bloody hell, Tosh – couldn’t you have just used that gizmo to open the door to the Tourist Office?”

“Maybe, but someone put the Hub into a lockdown and I don’t think it was Jack, and I really doubt he’d appreciate us walking into trap. For once let’s try to get one step ahead.” 

Tosh’s face was grim, she had been caught out once and that had proved dangerous enough. She had no intention of letting Jack down a second time so soon after the previous occasion. 

“This way we can probably get in without alerting that bastard to our presence and then maybe we can get them out in one piece.”

Tosh winced as she considered the possible outcomes, knowing that if Ianto was harmed in any way, the fact that Jack would come through physically intact wouldn’t necessarily mean that he would be in one piece. He would be shattered inside. Her limited knowledge of Patrick gave her an insight into his psyche and she believed that he could and would destroy both of her friends if they didn’t manage to save them.

Owen picked up on Tosh’s fiercely determined mood and moved to her side to block the wind so that she could work with both hands free, not having to hold her fringe from her eyes. Within moments she grinned triumphantly as a popping sound preceded the release of an invisible catch and then the tile sprung up to reveal a lightweight aluminium ladder that seemed to descend from the roof into a dark interior.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patrick had become frustrated as he had watched his two prisoners sit through his tirade against the evils of Torchwood. Naturally he enjoyed having a captive audience, especially as he hadn’t been able to vent his spleen to anyone who’d actually understand anything he said for more years than he cared to count. But he was finding himself increasingly incensed by Harkness, out of his time, but apparently quite at home here in the era where they thought a voyage to the nearest rocky satellite was an exotic space trip. He’d heard about him from Gates and had to agree with the man, there was something about Harkness that he desperately wanted to hurt. Not physically mind, he doubted that he’d make much of an impact taking out his aggression on him directly, he looked as if he had a high pain threshold. But Patrick could tell that taunting Jones was proving to be an effective alternative. 

It was evident, that if Patrick was to get any chance of getting acquiescence to his demands, rather than blatant defiance and refusal, there would be no better way of achieving that than by roughing up Ianto Jones. That would kill two birds with one stone. He’d been waiting a while to exact his revenge and now the time was ripe. 

“So, you see, Ianto, if it hadn’t been for Jack here, I would never have chanced upon you in the ruins of Torchwood Tower.” 

Patrick opened the door to Ianto’s cell and dragged him, still tied to his chair, to a space where Jack could observe everything. Standing to one side, Patrick pointed at Jack derisively. 

“You should hate and despise him, for everything you’ve gone through on his account.”

Ianto lifted his head, so that he could look directly into Patrick’s face and considered the full ramifications of his announcement. If Jack hadn’t attracted the attention of the Time Agency, whatever the hell that was, then Patrick was right, he wouldn’t be in his current predicament. No, instead he would have probably witnessed Lisa die slowly and painfully with no help from anyone and then, if he was honest with himself, he’d have most likely thrown himself in the Thames. Whichever way he looked at it, Jack had saved his life. The thought was like a soft breath blowing on the embers of hope and igniting a flame of defiance. A broad smile spread slowly across his face, teasing his lips into a graceful curve that he was pleased to see was unsettling his would-be tormentor. 

“Bollocks. You’ve got one thing right though, I am here because of him. In fact, he’s the only reason I am still here at all. So, if you’re saying that you’re responsible for bringing us together, as it were, I suppose I should be grateful.” Ianto then turned his eyes from Patrick and fixed his attention on Jack as he surreptitiously winked and smiled. If this was it, then he had nothing to lose, and he needed to let Jack know he didn’t regret a moment of their time together from start to finish. “It was the pteranodon that sealed the deal, he couldn’t help but fall for me – nice touch. Thank you, Patrick.”

Jack found himself suppressing a grin of his own, despite the risky game Ianto was playing, he couldn’t help but be delighted at the effect his words were having on Patrick. He really had underestimated Ianto if he had thought that their captor could sow seeds of distrust so easily. Jack knew just how much it took to gain Ianto’s loyalty and he was fully aware of just how deep that devotion went, indeed he was frighteningly aware of the fact that he would willingly give his life for Jack, not just as a member of his team, but as his lover and friend. He could detect the slightest of tremors in Ianto’s voice, but it was deep, husky and framed with Welsh vowels as cutting as the edge of the sharpest sword. Trust Ianto to attempt to disarm an enemy with words. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Patrick spat as he struck Ianto viciously in the gut, causing him to double over, pulling against the ropes holding him tightly to the back of the chair. Slowly Ianto raised his head until he could focus on Jack through watering eyes, he was too winded to say anything, but words weren’t necessary now they were back in eye contact. 

It was the soreness in his throat that alerted Jack to the fact that he must have screamed out as Patrick hit Ianto. He was tense and beyond angry. But as he caught sight of Ianto’s eyes sparkling with tears of pain and rebellion, he was filled with a sad pride. He lifted his chin as he returned the smile and knew from that moment that whatever Patrick succeeded in doing, he wouldn’t break the connection between them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Down there, Tosh?” asked Owen.

“What if it’s another trap?” 

“We don’t have any options, we’ve taken too long already, Gwen,” Tosh countered, irritated with Gwen’s indecision. “They need us to take action, not hang around arguing!”

“Fuck it – let’s go then. I’ll go first,” yelled Owen, already with one foot on the ladder.

The flimsy aluminium ladder led to a small landing from which descended a narrow spiral staircase, ingeniously concealed in the space between two internal walls of the Millennium Centre. Metal grids set into walls at regular intervals let in enough light, from beyond the stairwell, to prevent them from tripping over one another as they made their way down into the depths of the basements beneath the prestigious new building. The staircase ended abruptly at the point where they assumed they’d reached the foundations of the new building. 

“I would have remembered this and none of this looks familiar to me.” Gwen shook her head, she was worried – concerned that they were on the wrong track. She stood, hands on hips surveying the narrow area they found themselves standing in. 

“Hang on a bit, look there – down by your feet, love,” said Rhys, excitedly pointing where Gwen was standing. “It’s another trapdoor-” 

“If this isn’t a rear exit into the Hub, it’s a bloody secret entrance to somewhere,” said Gwen dropping to her knees to inspect the trapdoor. “Come on, we’ve got to try it.”

Rhys took hold of the plain wooden trapdoor and pulled it open. They were all surprised to see that beneath it was hidden a circular manhole, reminiscent of the one that allowed entry for the chosen few to Jack’s sleeping quarters. It would appear that a new cover had been placed over the older one to disguise its presence. Rhys struggled to pull it open to no avail and it was only after Tosh applied her lock- opening gadget to the wheel-shaped mechanism that it swung open downwards. They peered down into a brick lined shaft that looked almost like a well, it was as cold and as damp as one. Along one wall was a metal ladder, corroded in places, yet apparently quite solid.

“I’ll go first – like I said before, if it is a trap at least I can’t end up any more dead.” Owen gently nudged Gwen away from the entrance and gingerly made his way down the ladder. 

There was some light at the bottom, but no sounds. The bottom of the shaft opened out into a room and as Owen braced himself with his good hand he leaned out away from the ladder to get a better view. As far as he could tell the room was unoccupied and then he spotted the desk – familiar curved wooden front, the top buried in scattered paperwork and assorted clutter, including a dish of pale coral. It was Jack’s office. He’d often wondered where that ladder on the wall went and now he knew. 

Silently dropping onto the floor, Owen crouched low until he was certain there was nobody nearby. The computer’s screensaver was painting swirling blue strands upon the monitor, casting an eerie light across the walls. But the fact that Jack’s coat was hanging on the coat rack served as a clear indication that they couldn’t have left the Hub. They were still there somewhere. Apart from an empty bag from the Fabulous Welsh Cake shop discarded on the sofa, spilling crumbs onto the cushions, nothing was any more out of place than normal and there were no signs of a struggle. He needed to get Tosh to work her magic with undetectable surveillance to find out exactly where they Jack and Ianto had got to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Right now, let’s cut to the chase. My demands and what will happen if they’re not met.”

“There you go, threatening me again.” Jack tried to project an aura of nonchalance, but he could tell that Patrick could see through his act.

“Not you, but it’s true, isn’t it? You really are totally self-centred. I don’t need to threaten you directly - just what you care for. Seems pretty effective to me, bet you wouldn’t have screamed so loud if it had been you I’d hit.” 

Ianto nodded his head ever so slightly at Jack’s initial look of denial. It was ironic that the effort of trying not to cry out in pain had been rendered pointless as Jack’s screams would have drowned out any noise he would have made anyway. The almost imperceptible widening of Jack’s eyes and restrained shrug of shoulders in apology was returned by an affectionate eye roll and half smile. Expressions subtle and barely noticeable to Patrick who had turned his back on the two men briefly as he fetched his knife from where he had left it.

“The point is that if the trip back had been straightforward, if I’d found you straight away, taken you in and claimed the reward and got promoted, then I’d have been happy to let it go. But thanks to my inadvertently prolonged stay in this temporal fucking backwater, I’m pissed off and I want more. Torchwood stole a few decades of my life, keeping me trapped in a time with insufficient health care and toxic pastimes. I am owed, big time. Now, if we’re thinking of poetic justice, the thing is that you not only represent my prime objective, but you’re also de facto leader of Torchwood, which makes you doubly culpable.”

“Really? So, what are you going to do? Hand me in twice?”

“Don’t be such an eejit, you really have been here too long. There’s a lot you can hand over that might begin to recompense for my accelerated aging. However, to be fair, I won’t hold you responsible for the eye – I’ll be making sure that Ianto foots that particular bill, don’t worry.” 

“Don’t you dare-” Jack growled as he watched Patrick as he walked over to Ianto and lightly traced the tip of his knife across his face.

“Now, listen up carefully, before I truly lose my patience. To start with, you can tell me how the hell you ended up trillions of years in the future without using that.” Patrick pointed at the discarded wrist strap that lay on the abandoned chair behind him. “It’s standard issue, not enhanced, it shouldn’t have had that capacity for that range of long haul trip, there or back. Whatever technology you stole in order to do that, you’re going to give it to me.”

“No way! I can’t give it to you – I don’t have it!” Jack glared at Patrick and then looked in despair at the forlorn figure tied to the chair, hoping desperately that Ianto would understand and not feel that he was being sacrificed in favour of the Doctor. 

Patrick ran his fingers through Ianto’s hair, whilst holding the knife to his throat. He smiled as he felt the trembling that coursed through the young man’s body, knowing full well that it was a consequence of the combination of withdrawal symptoms and pure, unadulterated fear.

“I don’t think you heard me right, Jack. I didn’t ask for it. I said that you’re going to give me that technology. Seems to me I have something here that you’d like back in more or less one piece and there’s a price to be paid for that.”

“I told you, it’s not in my possession,” asserted Jack, shaking his head vigorously.

“Then get it for me.”

“I can’t do that. You don’t understand-”

“I understand perfectly. You can either produce the goods or two things are going to happen. First of all, I shall play with young Ianto in front of you. I’m prepared to take my time – prolong his agony. Then if that isn’t sufficient motivation and I end up killing him, well then, I’ll just have to get acquainted with that lovely rift manipulator you’ve got upstairs. Imagine what I could let through… the demonstrations with the little device that Ms Sato screwed up was just a taster of the fun I could have. Now you know what I am, you know I can do it.” 

Jack looked into Ianto’s eyes, knowing that he was ultimately being given a choice of betraying either him or the Doctor. If it was purely on a personal level, the odds were stacked in Ianto’s favour, but taking in the bigger picture they both knew that Jack had a duty to protect the Time Lord. 

“I told you, the technology wasn’t mine and I didn’t steal it either. I hitched a lift. The driver’s been and gone. I can’t just bring him back here!” Jack was all too aware of how desperate he sounded, but he was fast running out of means at his disposal to deal with Patrick. The bastard had Ianto tied to a chair in front of him and was circling him again like a predator toying with its prey.

“You’re lying. It all comes back here. This location. This time. The density of time travel signatures over the course of the late twentieth and early twenty first century are far in excess of what could be construed as random activity. It’s deliberate – someone has been travelling to and from here and now. You know the drill in the Agency – there is no such thing as a coincidence.” 

Patrick leaned against the window of Jack’s cell to speak to him directly. 

“Your presence overlaps with all that activity. Why here? Why in this stupid bloody city? Because it’s got a rift in time and space? Well yes, that would partially explain it – would explain why a time traveller would be drawn here. You know this person don’t you? So, Jack, all you have to do is to make a call, get in touch with your travelling companion and get him to drop in. I’ll take it from there.”

Jack was sweating now. Of all the demands that Patrick could have made, why was it the one thing he couldn’t possibly agree to? 

“If it’s transport you need, why don’t you just take my damn wrist strap and use your repair kit to make it functional again. I’ll help you get it fixed – I’m sure you can get it to work and then go back to where you came from.” 

Patrick shook his head with contempt and moved to crouch beside Ianto. He turned his head to one side and, smiling at Jack, he held up the knife by the tip of the blade before coolly tossing it up into the air, letting it spin end over end several times. Then, suddenly, without warning, he snatched it from its flight and plunged it into Ianto’s thigh. He grasped the hilt and began to slowly twist the blade, causing the prone man to whimper with pain.

“The edge of the blade’s about two centimetres off the femoral artery. If I turn it in the right direction I could slice into it. I’m good at this. The tiniest of tears in the artery wall will result in him bleeding out over a period of several minutes I should think. But, you know what? I don’t think I will.”

Patrick jerked the knife up and, as he did so, the bloodstain started to spread out across Ianto’s trouser leg. Jack looked on in horror, breathing heavily, afraid of what damage had been done and what could have been inflicted. He should have known that Patrick’s skills at torture would have been of a more sadistic order than anything he had ever succumbed to in the past. 

“Please, stop that. I really can’t do what you’re asking me to do. Surely there’s something else I can offer.”

“Jack – don’t. It’s OK,” Ianto bit out, but the pain made it difficult to say more without screaming. He had to keep his jaw clenched shut. This wasn’t going to be easy for either of them, but he had to let Jack know that he accepted what had to happen.

“No, I am not going to stop. I’ve made my demands perfectly clear, I also told you exactly what I intend to do if you refuse to comply.”

Patrick wiped the blade of the knife clean and walked slowly around Ianto, considering where next to strike. All the time, Jack held Ianto’s gaze, supporting him as best he could, mentally propping him up. He struggled to keep his eyes from being drawn to the dark stain that was expanding at an alarming rate from the stab wound in his leg. He could see that Ianto was visibly shaking now, in pain and probably in fear. And all he could offer in the way of comfort was a weak smile and a look filled to the brim with love and pride for this quiet, unassuming man who could be living out his last minutes in front of him.

“What next? I know!” 

A broad, mirthless grin appeared on Patrick’s face as he stood behind Ianto once again. He wrapped his left arm about Ianto’s shoulders pulling him back hard against the chair, pinned tight and unable to move at all, and then he pressed the tip of the knife through the thin fabric of Ianto’s waistcoat and shirt until it pricked the soft skin just below the ribs.

Ianto swallowed hard, the pain in his thigh put to one side as he felt the sharp point of the knife pressing into his back. A tear escaped and slid down his cheek, despite all attempts to hold them back, for Jack’s sake. 

“No!” screamed Jack, aware of the fact that Patrick was poised to stab the blade into Ianto’s kidney.

It was then that the lights went out and all hell broke loose.

“Ianto? Ianto!!” 

There was no reply. 

There had been a crashing sound, followed by a muffled scream that he knew to have come from Ianto and now there was nothing. The cell block had been plunged into darkness. Not even the emergency lights had come on. Jack felt helpless and terrified.

Then he heard his cell door opening.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for little more angst ...

Jack could hear the sounds of something heavy being dragged across the floor outside his cell. He pulled hard against his bindings, his imagination running riot and taunting him with images of Ianto’s lifeless body. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He was tense with anger and so far past fury that there felt as if there could be no going back.

Then he heard footsteps on the floor heading towards him, heels hitting the tiles sharply. He wondered how anyone could see where they were going as there was absolutely no light to see by at all, not even for night vision goggles.

“Rhys! You can put the lights back on now.”

Jack was shocked and relieved to hear Gwen’s voice giving instructions. He was also thoroughly baffled. 

The lights came back on, flickering intermittently, causing a strobe-like effect, confusing Jack who was desperate to see who was where and what state they were in. Gwen was crouching in front of him, having placed what looked like a thermal imaging camera carefully on the floor. Unfortunately, she had placed herself in just the right position to obscure what was going on outside the cell.

“Are you OK, Jack?” she asked hesitantly, carrying out a quick visual check for injuries. 

“I’m fine. Untie me. Now, Gwen!” Jack figured there would be time enough later to express his gratitude for being rescued, but for now he had to find out what had happened to Ianto. He wondered why Gwen didn’t seem to realise that. 

“What’s going on out there?” Jack snapped at Gwen as she worked at the knots behind him, not helped by him struggling against the ropes holding him firmly to the chair. He was anxious to physically do something, he’d been rendered helpless for long enough. 

Despite not being able to see Ianto, Jack could hear Owen swearing just beyond his field of vision, using the type of expletives he saved for particularly grim situations, and he needed to be brought up to speed rapidly.

“Owen’s looking after Ianto-”

“Is he OK?” 

What Jack really wanted to know, above all else, was whether Ianto was still alive, but a lump in his throat kept that question trapped in his chest.

“It looks like he lost consciousness just before we arrived. Owen’s with him, he’ll be fine, don’t worry.” 

Gwen avoided answering Jack’s question. She’d seen Ianto toppling forward to the ground tied to the chair and then when she’d helped get him free of the ropes, he’d not responded at all. As soon as Owen had taken over she’d gone straight to Jack.

“Tosh is with Rhys in your office. We waited until they turned out the lights and then came in using those thermographic goggles we developed for use in caves. Tosh’s idea it was.”

“What about Patrick? Where the hell is that bastard?” Jack couldn’t see him and wasn’t sure he’d be able to forgive them if he found out that he’d managed to slip away under cover of darkness.

“Knocked out with a tranq dart and shut in the cell next to this one.” 

Gwen felt Jack tugging at the ropes, as if he was raring to get at Patrick and rip him to pieces. But all he was succeeding in doing was tightening the knots even further. She had to move in front of him once more, grab hold of his shoulders and look him the face to calm him down. 

“Jack, for fuck’s sake, sit still and let me get these bloody ropes undone. Patrick will wait, we need to see to Ianto first.”

Jack slumped back into the chair, tense, yet no longer straining against the ropes. He wished Gwen would just slice through the damn ropes with a knife but that wasn’t her way. He could hear Owen giving out lists of instructions, to Tosh he presumed, but he couldn’t make out the details and that only increased his level of anxiety.

From outside Jack’s cell, words like ‘stretcher’, ‘blood’ and ‘transfusion’ filtered through the wall of obscenities from Owen, enough to tell Gwen just how bad it was. However, she couldn’t help but think how much worse it could have been if it hadn’t been for Tosh’s cool-headed logic. As soon as they’d all seen what was happening to their colleagues on the CCTV, she was all for storming the cell block, until Tosh had pointed out that unless they could figure out a way of approaching stealthily, Ianto was as good as dead. 

It had been Tosh’s idea to cut the lights and for them to use the thermographic imaging tech. It was Owen who’d suggested using the tranq darts, not so much out of a humanitarian desire to avoid killing Patrick, but because he knew that the pleasure of finishing off that piece of scum belonged to Jack and woe betide anyone who denied him that right. For once Gwen hadn’t argued for justice and the right to a fair trial. She’d turn a blind eye to whatever Jack had in mind.

Loosening the final knot, Gwen stood back quickly as Jack virtually flew from the chair and into the corridor outside the cells. Owen had lain Ianto carefully on the floor, his jacket bundled into a pillow and placed under his head to cushion it. He couldn’t be sure there were no head injuries caused when Ianto had toppled over with no way of breaking his fall. 

The first thing Jack saw was a disturbingly large puddle of congealing blood collecting beneath Ianto’s body. Owen had torn up the seam of Ianto’s trousers and had ripped up part of them to shreds to serve as makeshift bandages. He had wrapped them tightly around the wound and was pressing onto the sides of the cut as hard as he could to stop the bleeding. Ianto’s leg was raised and propped up on the overturned chair. Looking away from the blood-stained clothes, Jack saw that Ianto’s face was as white as the proverbial sheet and he was evidently still unconscious. 

“What’s going on, Owen?” Jack was almost afraid to ask, but he needed to know just how serious Ianto’s condition was. 

“Make yourself useful and help me keep his leg elevated, it needs to stay above the level of his heart. It keeps slipping off that stupid bloody chair.”

“Of course, above heart level, I knew that,” Jack muttered as he dropped to the ground beside Ianto and gently held his leg on the chair. “Why isn’t he conscious?”

“Obvious reason would be down to major blood loss, leading to a drop in blood pressure, that and extreme pain I’d imagine.” Owen sounded annoyed, as if Ianto’s failure to respond reflected directly on his medical expertise. “I don’t suppose you got him to eat much earlier did you?”

“No. Sorry, just one of those Welsh cakes, that’s all…” Jack frowned; he’d known at the time that he should have insisted on Ianto eating more. “So, his blood sugar is too low as well.”

“Yeah, considering increased respiratory rate as a factor associated with the withdrawal he’s been suffering, not surprising. It’s alright, Jack, he’s just fainted, he’ll come around soon enough. Probably a good thing he’s missing this, that stab wound must be fucking painful. From what I could see it looked like a v-shaped wound, the sort you see when someone has literally been twisting the knife in -sadistic shit.”

“Yes, he was.” Jack leaned in closer recalling the way Patrick had smiled at him as he was inflicting pain on Ianto. “He was threatening to cut the femoral artery-”

“He didn’t, otherwise Ianto would be dead by now.” Owen frowned as he looked at the blood on the floor, there was a lot, but there would have been far more if the artery had been damaged.

“There was another wound on his back –” 

The image of Patrick’s face as he pressed the knife in was still haunting Jack, but not as much as the one of the tear that ran down Ianto’s face, because he could imagine a drop of blood mirroring its trail down the pale skin of his lover’s back.

Owen felt underneath Ianto’s body, sliding his hand under the shirt to assess any further damage.

“A slight nick in the flesh, some bleeding, but it’s not deep – the major wound is this one in his leg. I’m not going to risk moving him until we’ve got the bleeding stopped.” 

“Can I do anything?” Gwen asked. 

She’d been standing to one side quietly talking on her comm to Tosh and Rhys, checking with them that they hadn’t located any other intruders in the Hub for them to deal with and that they were en route to the cell block with the equipment that Owen had requested. She’d also made sure that Tosh was armed to the teeth, just in case.

“That coat, over there. Fetch it for me. We need to keep him warm, in case he starts to go into shock.”

Gwen gathered up Patrick’s coat and carefully placed it around Ianto’s torso, tucking it in over his arms. 

“Where have the others got to? I need more bandages – this is soaked through already.”

“Gwen – hold onto his leg a moment.” 

Jack stood up and slipped his arms free of his braces before tugging the shirt from his trousers. Not bothering with the buttons, he just tore it off and ripped it into pieces that he handed over to Owen, who wasted no time in using to augment the sodden trouser fabric in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood. 

Patrick may not have severed an artery, but by twisting the knife and then pulling it back out of the wound he’d managed to cut through enough blood vessels to cause substantial bleeding. Any muscle or nerve damage wouldn’t be revealed until Owen got hold of the Bekaran scanner.

“Hang on – I think he’s coming around,” Owen had heard a groan from Ianto.

Ianto felt sick. He was vaguely aware of an uncomfortable pressure on the top of his leg, the chill of a cold floor beneath his back, a pair of firm, cool hands around his bare calf and a vicious pain in his thigh. He didn’t want to open his eyes, he was almost afraid of what he would see. Sounds were muffled as if he was underwater; the only clear sensation that permeated the haziness of his senses was the throbbing ache in his leg. It hurt so much that it made him groan out loud, involuntarily, and that had seemed to alert the people around him to the fact that he was awake again.

“Try not to move.” Owen’s firm instruction cut through the other voices in a tone that didn’t invite disobedience. 

“Hush there, love, you’re going to be fine. You’re safe now.” Gwen’s lullaby tones caressed his ear. He wondered if those were her hands he could feel on his leg, they felt too small for Jack’s. 

Even though Jack didn’t say a word, Ianto knew he was there. His scent was there. Ianto felt his hand being taken from under a blanket of some sort, lifted away from the floor, cradled gently in a large, slightly trembling hand and then soft lips pressing a kiss to his knuckles. A drip of something warm and wet hit the backs of his fingers and he felt it trickle across to be followed by another, then another. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Gareth David-Lloyd's birthday today - so that seems a good reason to post another chapter!

Ianto closed his eyes, as if shutting out the apology that was barely audible on Jack’s lips. He knew exactly what Jack was remorseful about, but it wasn’t something he could afford to dwell on there and then. He felt bad for Jack and could tell that he was badly affected by the fact that he’d been injured, but he figured that if he could let him think it would be alright, then Jack could shake free of the guilt enough to be able to regain control. He squeezed Jack’s hand as firmly as he could and then withdrew it, feeling the cool air on the tear trails as he let his hand fall back to rest on his chest.

“S’alright, I’ll be fine… you go do wha’ you need to…” Ianto silently cursed the fact that he’d slurred the words and ended up giving completely the opposite impression to the one he’d intended. 

“What I need to do right now is to stay here and make sure you’re OK.” 

Jack frowned, worried that Ianto seemed to be rejecting him, as if he didn’t want the comfort that they both needed. He gently brushed his fingertips across Ianto’s brow, noting how cool he was, concerned that the blood loss had been worse that he’d thought it had been.

“Owen can do tha’, you don’t need to worry ‘bout me,” Ianto whispered, looking away from the piercing blue eyes that were silently begging for forgiveness. He tried to hide the hurt, but he could tell from the widening of Jack’s eyes that he hadn’t succeeded, that the way his voice had hitched slightly had betrayed him. With any luck Jack would assume that it was just his leg that was the source of his pain.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ianto. I promise.” 

Jack wanted to reassure Ianto that there was no risk that he would be leaving. He wished that he could do something to take away the pain that he could tell wasn’t solely physical, he knew Ianto too well for that.

Guilt consumed Jack. He knew that Ianto had every right to feel hurt. After all, hadn’t Jack let him suffer rather than offer up anything to do with his association with the Doctor? And just what would have happened if the rest of the team hadn’t effected a rescue when they did? What would he have allowed Patrick to do to Ianto before he gave up a scrap of information about the Time Lord? Patrick’s menacing taunts reverberated through his skull with the sickening knowledge that they hadn’t been idle threats. 

Jack shuddered as the full impact of what might have happened hit him. Ianto had known. He’d damn well known what was going on, he’d been used as a pawn yet again and this time he’d been aware that Jack was prepared to sacrifice him in order to spare the spectre that haunted their relationship. Jack felt his stomach clench as a wave of nausea struck. Horrific thoughts of just what Patrick could have inflicted on Ianto were accompanied by ugly images, distant memories of the type of torture he’d witnessed in his past. He swallowed back the bile rising in his throat and blinked harshly, holding back the tears of self-pity that he had no right to spill. 

“Come on, Jack move back a bit, I need to check his vitals,” muttered Owen gruffly, as he took hold of Jack’s hand carefully to place it on top of a bundle of red-tinged shirt fabric that he’d wrapped about Ianto’s thigh. “Press down here and, whatever you do, don’t lift it away from the wound. Hopefully it’s starting to clot properly now and I don’t want it disturbed.” 

The warm, wet feeling of Ianto’s blood seeping through the pale blue cotton of his own shirt brought Jack out of his personal pity-party. He had let Ianto down badly, now was time to make up for that. He applied pressure with both hands and held on tight, as if his lover’s life depended on it, which it possibly did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen had taken control over the transfer of Ianto from the floor of the cell block to the medical bay. Rhys took one end of the stretcher, allowing him to keep hold of the bag of plasma that he had got running into Ianto’s veins before trying to move him at all. 

To say the atmosphere within the tiled confines of the autopsy bay was thick, would be like saying Jack used a little something to style his hair. Owen and Tosh attended to Ianto’s wound while Jack watched on, brooding. The medic hadn’t trusted his own ability to cauterise and suture accurately with only one fully functional hand, so he’d supervised as Tosh carried out his terse instructions. Her dexterity had probably spared Ianto from a permanent limp and she was now closing off the wound, bringing together the edges of skin cruelly sliced open by Patrick’s knife. Owen sterilised the area once more, paranoid about the type of infection that could have been picked up from the floor, across which many an unsanitary weevil had been dragged.

Owen wasn’t sure if he was relieved that Jack hadn’t stayed behind to kick the crap out of the unconscious body of their prisoner or bothered by the guilty look on his face. It seemed as if there was a hell of a lot more to this than met the eye and chances were they weren’t going to get a straight answer out of their leader any time soon. But Owen was determined to find out. He decided that as soon as he’d stabilised Ianto it wouldn’t take much to persuade Jack to sit with him, then he’d get Tosh to download the footage from the cells so that they could find out for themselves what had taken place whilst they’d been locked out. Either that or just set Gwen loose on him. 

But it wasn’t just Owen having such thoughts. Tosh spared a glance in Jack’s direction as she helped wrap pristine white bandages about Ianto’s leg. She couldn’t help but notice that he’d refused to say a word or even meet their eyes. He’d just positioned himself against the wall of the autopsy bay, his arms folded defensively across his chest. If it wasn’t for the fact that he appeared unnaturally pale, a look they only usually saw on him when he was dead, they would have thought he was detached from the proceedings in the room, but his concern was patently there. 

On the way up from the lower levels of the Hub, Tosh had to hold herself back from thumping Owen when he’d said in passing that he thought there was a ‘pretty good chance they could save the Teaboy’s leg’. She realised he’d done it to provoke a response from Jack, but the look of complete devastation hadn’t been worth it. At least Owen had the decency to look sheepish after that and had gone on to say that the blade hadn’t hit the bone or any major artery and that blood supply to the lower part of his leg hadn’t been compromised sufficiently for there to be any risk of necrosis. But Tosh had seen Jack’s face, he’d looked ready to accept the blame on his own shoulders. She wondered just want the hell was going on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gwen had needed to escape the tension and took the opportunity to seek out Rhys. Once she found him, she gave him a desperate hug, relieved he’d got through unscathed and needing to feel his arms around her. He was taken aback by the force with which she launched herself at him, but immensely glad that she chose to find comfort in his company. She pushed him down into the sofa under the dragon mural and straddled his legs. Leaning in close she kissed him slowly and lovingly, her unexpected affection causing him to smile. 

“What’s that for then?” 

“Thank you, love. If it hadn’t been for your prompting, we’d never have got here in time. Ianto could’ve bled to death if it hadn’t been for you. Thank you.”

“I’m glad I could do something useful. But I have to say I’m totally confused.” Rhys ran his hands through his hair and frowned. “Just what the fuck is going on here? Who was that bloke? How come he got in and why did Jack let the bastard do that to Ianto?”

“I don’t know, love, but I intend to find out. Trust me.” 

They had all been shocked by what they had witnessed over the CCTV before setting off to rescue Jack and Ianto. Not just by the assault on Ianto, but also by Jack’s apparent helplessness and inability to prevent it.

Rhys pulled Gwen closer to his chest, so that her head rested on his shoulder. He knew that tone of voice from his Gwen and there was no way that Jack was going to be let off lightly. She could be ruthless when she wanted something badly enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jack?” 

“Not now, Gwen.” Jack didn’t take his eyes off Ianto’s body, watching the slight chest movements as if mesmerised.

“Yes, now, Jack. Ianto’s going to be out of it for a while. Owen said he’ll need to sleep off the sedative.”

“Someone needs to keep an eye on him.” 

Jack held on more tightly to Ianto’s hand, willing to wait for however long it took for him to return the grip. He needed Ianto to come back to him. He knew that their relationship had taken a battering and it was up to him to repair the damage. Owen and Tosh had done what they could with the stab wounds, but the knife that had twisted into his heart had been wielded by Jack, inflicting an emotional wound that was his responsibility to heal.

“Rhys can do that. We need to talk.”

“No-” Jack looked up, angry, only to find Owen standing beside Gwen.

“She’s right, Jack. We need some fucking answers. Rhys will call us as soon as Ianto stirs. Come on.”

Reluctantly, Jack allowed Gwen to lead him away from Ianto’s side. Rhys looked almost apologetic as he took Jack’s seat and shook his head slightly in sympathy.

Jack followed Gwen into the boardroom. The remnants of their lunch still lay scattered on plates, sandwiches dried up, their edges curling and salads discoloured from not having been covered and refrigerated. Briefly Jack wondered why everything had been left in that state, until he realised that Ianto usually took care of those details, the things they all took for granted, day in and day out. 

Tosh was already there, standing patiently, waiting. Behind her the frozen image from the CCTV of the cells, showing Jack and Ianto bound and helpless, in separate cells.

“Right, Jack, you can either tell us what the hell is going on, or we can watch and listen to the recording,” announced Gwen, pointing at the screen. “I bet it would be quicker if you just told us.”

“What do you want from me?” Jack couldn’t believe that he was now being interrogated by his own team. “What can I tell you?” 

“You can start with explaining why this bastard attacked Ianto and what it’s got to do with you, because from what we could see it looked like he was trying to get you to give him something. What the fuck was it, Jack?” Gwen spat at him. “What did he want that was so bloody precious that you’d let him nearly kill Ianto in front of you rather than hand it over?” 

Gwen had been prepared for Jack to get angry, for him to yell at her, tell her it was none of her damn business. But she hadn’t expected him to collapse into a chair, his head in his hands, apparently sobbing. Earlier when he’d wept openly as Ianto had recovered consciousness, she’d put it down to relief. But this? 

“What have you done, Jack?” This time her voice was kinder and more understanding. She could see from his reaction that if there had been anything he could have done to save Ianto, he would have done. 

“I … it’s com… complicated,” Jack stuttered, not sure how to explain. He was only just coming to terms with Patrick’s revelations himself. 

Jack stood up, wiped his face with his hands and then put plunged them into his pockets to hide the fact that they were shaking so much, and that’s when he felt the objects he’d crammed into them back in the vaults. He took the items out and placed them on the table. He took special care with the small blaster weapon and the leather roll that contained a highly-prized repair kit. His mind drifted to the leather strap about his arm, the one that Tosh had picked up from the floor when he was helping to place Ianto onto the stretcher. Jack idly wondered if he could use the tool kit to undo the modifications that the Doctor had carried out. But that line of thought was cut off abruptly by the glares from his team. 

Gwen was looking eager for him to divulge what had happened, Tosh insatiably curious as ever and Owen impatient for answers. Taking a deep breath, Jack considered starting at the beginning, then he exhaled with despair, realising that he had no idea which direction that lay in. It was then that the niggling alarm at that back of his mind, the one that had been trying unsuccessfully to get his attention, finally broke through and screamed at him. 

Wrist strap.

Patrick’s wrist strap.

Had his team left it on him?


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And another update ... want to get this finished by the end of the week.

“Damn! Please don’t tell me you let that bastard keep his wrist strap?” Jack demanded, his eyes widening.

“What bloody wrist strap? What the hell are you on about?” Gwen looked at Jack as if he’d lost the plot. 

“One like this! Like mine!” Jack pointed dramatically at the leather strap around his otherwise bare arm. There was no coat or long sleeved shirt to hide it from view; he hadn’t had the chance to replace the shirt he’d torn to shreds to stem the bleeding from Ianto’s leg. 

They’d all become so accustomed to the leather strap that Jack wore and they’d taken for granted that he used it to operate virtually anything electronic. It had only been the arrival of John Hart, bragging about the size of his own strap, that had prompted them to wonder what other properties it may have possessed. 

“Oh, fuck.” Owen put into four letters what they were all thinking. “Are you telling us he’s another one like that bastard Hart?”

“Yes and no,” snapped Jack impatiently, no longer being in the mood to explain the intricacies of the mess he was in. “He’s from the future, he works for the Time Agency and that wrist strap works like mine – for a start he can use it to open doors. I guess that’s how he got inside in the first place.”

“He should still be unconscious,” Owen said, looking at his watch anxiously. However, he was no longer convinced that the tranquiliser would be as effective as he’d assumed it would be.

“Tosh – pull up CCTV footage of the cells!” Jack called out, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to run down to the cells and make sure the bastard never woke up again. He knew that for the safety of the team they needed to stick together.

“There you go- he’s still there, lying on the floor where we left him. No sign of regaining consciousness.” Tosh sighed with relief as she zoomed in on Patrick. “All we have to do is go down there and remove the strap-”

“Hang on,” snarled Jack, not trusting his eyes. “Pan out to the left, down the corridor… check the nearest occupied cell… further … the weevil cell at the end-”

“Bollocks!” swore Owen, yet again succinctly expressing the shared disbelief. “I’ve never seen that before – either that weevil is playing silly buggers or –”

“The CCTV has been interfered with,” stated Tosh with annoyance, urgently tapping a few keys to put a stop to the looped sequence of the weevil apparently dancing on the spot. It didn’t take her long to circumvent the bypass and bring up some real-time images. The cell where they had left Patrick was empty.

“Will he make for an exit?” asked Gwen nervously.

“I don’t think so, not while I’ve still got these.” 

Jack scooped the standard issue Time Agent tool kit and the other items off the table top and tucked them back into his pockets. If Patrick wanted them, he’d have to get through Jack first. And if he got close enough to do that, Jack would kill him. He wasn’t anywhere close to a forgiving mood any more, hadn’t been since looking into the eye of that cold-hearted sadist as he’d plunged a knife into Ianto. He’d neither forget nor forgive the way he’d twisted it to cause as much pain and distress as possible, spilling his lover’s blood in an effort to force Jack to talk. 

“What do we do, Jack?” asked Tosh, pointedly seeking guidance from him. “Hunt for him or wait here for him to find us?”

Jack grimaced as he took on board that Tosh was basically asking if they were to assume the role of predator or prey. They had the bait that he was after, so Jack considered lying in wait, until he thought of one other place that Patrick could be heading for.

“Oh no! The autopsy bay! Tosh -” Jack looked at the CCTV image of the empty cell, his meaning clear.

“Got it, Jack.” Tosh keyed in the code to access the main area of the Hub and was able to turn the camera until it provided them with a view of a still figure lying under a thin sheet, his leg propped up with a pillow. “I can see Ianto, no-one else though-” 

Gwen rushed forward, nudging Jack out of the way to get a better view at the monitor. As her mind filled with images of Rhys in mortal danger her hand went to her mouth in horror.

“If that bastard has done anything to my Rhys…”

Jack wanted to snap at Gwen, but he knew that it would be hypocritical of him if he did. His thoughts had flown to Ianto and he hadn’t stopped to consider Rhys until Gwen had mentioned him. There was no sign of movement, none at all. It almost looked as if Ianto was dead, or that the transmission had been blocked in the same way as the CCTV from the cells. Either way, that wasn’t a good thing.

It was then that Jack’s wrist strap beeped. 

A message. 

Short and to the point. 

An invite for Jack to meet in the medical bay, alone and unarmed. All Patrick apparently wanted were his possessions. A fair price he suggested, in exchange for Ianto’s life.

“Fuck!” Jack swore as he pulled his Webley from its holster and threw it on the table before dashing towards the door.

He was furious to find both Gwen and Owen blocking his way. 

“Jack? What are you going to do? You can’t trust him!”

“I trust that he will kill Ianto if I don’t do this, so just get out of my way!” Jack snarled as he pushed his way past them. “And don’t follow me. This ends now.” 

Storming out of the boardroom, Jack rushed across the main hub area and through the archway that led down into the autopsy area, only coming to an abrupt halt when he reached the small balcony. Looking over the railing he could see Patrick sitting on a stool next to the makeshift hospital cot, running his long, silver-ringed fingers through Ianto’s hair. The younger man’s eyes were shut and he appeared to be unconscious and Jack hoped that he was, he didn’t want to think of him being aware of what Patrick was doing to him. His stomach turned, there was something obscene about such an intimate gesture being perpetrated by such a vindictive and hateful person. He wanted to kill him just for touching Ianto. 

Patrick smiled as he saw the effect his actions were having on Jack. He was tempted to go further, touch more, maybe even slide his hand under the sheet and caress bare flesh. It amused him that he literally had the power at his fingertips to render Jack speechless with anger.

“You see, I just knew that I could make you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”

“Get away from him.” Jack’s voice was flat and cold. His mood had transcended fury and had reached the plateau where he could tap into the man he’d once been. There was an enemy to be dealt with, threatening the life of a man he loved and there was only one outcome that would be acceptable to him.

“No. I’m not leaving without what I came for and I’m taking you with me. Once we get back to the Agency I’m sure I can access a few more persuasive devices to loosen your tongue with regard to your travels. For now, I need the repair kit to recalibrate my Vortex Manipulator and then we’re off.”

“No fucking way. You get away from him before I rip you apart.” 

Jack started to move towards the six steps that descended into the autopsy bay itself. Not taking his eyes from Patrick he purposefully walked down the steps one at a time until he stood on the opposite side of Ianto, ready to snatch him from harm’s way.

“Really? This is checkmate, Jack. You can’t win. Have a good look at the bag of saline hanging up there.”

Jack glanced quickly at the bag of fluid suspended on a rickety stand to the side of the bed. He’d watched Owen set it up to keep Ianto hydrated as well as restore his glucose and electrolyte levels. He could see that the valve was shut and nothing was dripping through into the translucent tube.

“What have you put in there?” Jack had a very bad feeling, like a cold stone settling in his gut. 

Patrick didn’t answer directly, but he did lift an empty glass vial, the dregs of a white precipitate coating the bottom of it. The ruthless grin on his face told Jack that his suspicions were correct and that he’d poured the entire contents of the bottle of the heroin-like drug into the IV bag suspended above Ianto. He inwardly cursed his team for not searching the man when they’d thrown him in that cell. Patrick fiddled with the valve showing that it would only take the slightest of touches to open it and allow the liquid to trickle down the tube, through the port and into Ianto’s veins.

“There’s enough there to cause death, either by slowing his breathing rate to the point where the oxygen levels in his blood are sufficiently low to cause permanent, irreparable brain damage, possibly instantly fatal, who knows? Or of course it could bring about death as a result of pulmonary oedema.” Patrick seemed to be genuinely curious as to how the drug would affect the already unconscious figure. He rubbed his hands together as he relished the look of disgust on Jack’s face. “Shall we find out which?”

Jack didn’t bother wasting his breath on Patrick, he just launched himself at him, throwing the man off the stool and to the floor. The sight of a discarded blood soaked scrap of cloth was all that it took for his resolve to be hardened. Using the full weight of his body, he crushed Patrick to the ground, holding him in place with his left hand while he clenched his right hand into a fist and slammed it into the other man’s jaw, taking pleasure in the reverberating shudder that went through his arm, an echo of the pain he’d inflicted. He kept going, striking again and again, watching as a trickle of blood spilled down from the corner of the thin-lipped mouth, another from his nose. It didn’t take long for the ugly red precursors of bruises to erupt, the jagged white scar standing out lividly against the flushed skin that was being pummelled mercilessly. 

Patrick rallied his strength and reached out to challenge an uncontrolled blow, using Jack’s momentum to roll him over and throw him into a trolley of equipment, causing glass and metal to go crashing and bouncing across the floor. As Jack’s head caught the edge of the trolley he was momentarily stunned and as he shook his head to clear it, he found Patrick’s hands about his throat, choking him. Grabbing a scalpel that had fallen from the trolley, he defended himself by stabbing it into the back of one of Patrick’s hands. The shock was sufficient to cause the grip about his neck to slacken enough so he could throw the other man off and slam him into the wall behind them. Jack sat up and bracing himself against the overturned trolley he aimed a foot squarely at Patrick’s diaphragm, knocking the air out of his lungs and winding him. As Jack made to stand up his feet were kicked from under him as Patrick swung his legs around to take him unawares, bringing him crashing down to the floor once more. 

Patrick recovered fast and, before Jack could move, he found that the other man had wrapped his legs about his throat and was trying once more to throttle him. He reached out to find a weapon, anything he could use – he felt a sharp pain as his hand found a shard of broken glass and tightened onto it and then he grabbed hold of Patrick’s knee before viciously slicing through his hamstring, inflicting enough damage to cause his foe to scream out in agony as his leg went limp.

_‘That’s for Ianto’,_ Jack thought vengefully. 

It was unfortunate that the drawer of one of the morgue cabinets creaked at that moment – enough to distract Jack and allow Patrick to take advantage, grabbing hold of his arms and rolling him over onto his front, pinning him to the ground. Pressing down onto Jack with the full length of his body, Patrick lifted one arm and used his teeth to pull open the cover of his own wrist strap revealing a keypad. He grabbed hold of Jack’s hand and pushed it close to the strap as he began to press buttons clumsily, his fingers slick with blood from the scalpel wound that bled freely.

“It’s time we should be taking this somewhere else,” panted Patrick breathlessly as he attempted to bite back the pain.

“You’re not gonna get far with that-” Jack struggled helplessly, trying to recall exactly what Patrick had said about the state of his Vortex manipulator. He wondered if it would be able to transport them temporally or just to another set of spatial vectors. 

“Far enough. Brace yourself.”


	43. Chapter 43

Jack clenched his teeth and desperately tried to pull his hand back, avoiding contact with the Vortex Manipulator about Patrick’s wrist. His sight was becoming blurred, panic rising as he realised the cost of his imminent failure. It wasn’t just his future that was in danger. If he allowed himself to be transported out of the Hub, with Patrick, there would be no one to tell Owen that the bag of fluid connected to Ianto’s arm would probably kill him. He had to do something. He bunched the muscles up in his arm and jabbed back with his elbow, hoping to dislodge Patrick’s hand from the buttons he was pressing, but his distraction proved futile as he found his face shoved down into the shard of a broken glass flask. Thinking that all was lost, he allowed himself to feel the prickles of pain as the glass splinters were driven into his forehead. Tears came to his eyes, tears of frustration and anger. He’d let this happen. It was all his fault.

Suddenly the sharp blast of a gunshot cracked the air, its deafening report echoing around the curved walls. Another shot followed. Jack winced as he felt the impact.

Behind him, Patrick’s head snapped back in shock as the unexpected pain of two bullets hitting him in the back flooded his body with agony. 

“He’s not going anywhere.” The voice was hoarse. The words broken, but the accent and pitch unmistakable. 

Once Jack realised that it wasn’t him that had been shot, he scrambled to his feet, roughly pushing Patrick’s bloodied body to one side. He stood, open-mouthed in shock, taking in the image of Ianto leaning over the edge of the metal autopsy tray, breathing heavily. His eyes were then drawn to the gun that was threatening to fall from Ianto’s shaking hand and to a dark rivulet of blood, stark against the pale skin on the back of his hand, from where the IV port had been torn free. 

Taking a deep breath himself, Jack dashed to Ianto’s side, taking the gun carefully from him, putting the safety on and tucking it into his own holster. Without realising that they were doing it, both men were appraising one another’s physical status. Ianto’s eyes moved down, taking in the cuts on Jack’s face, the bruising around his neck and then the mess that his white t-shirt was in, smeared with blood and torn in several places. Jack’s gaze had drifted from the trembling hands to the bandaged leg and back to the pale face.

“Where the hell did you get that gun from?” There may have been other questions Jack should have asked, but that was the one he wanted an answer to first. 

“Owen keeps one down here… in the drawer… with the microscope slides.” Ianto nodded in the direction of the desk to one side, upon which sat the doctor’s microscope. “Ever since that incident with the risen mitten gone mental.” 

Jack shook his head, wondering how Ianto managed to generate even more questions with the answers he provided. But at that moment in time, he set aside the questions and grabbed a piece of gauze from the side bench to press against the back of Ianto’s hand, which he held onto more tightly than was necessary. 

It was at that moment the rest of the team made their appearance, charging in through the archway and taking positions on either staircase, weapons raised and swung from side to side until all three were trained on the slumped figure on the floor. Patrick was sprawled partly on his back, his face swollen and bruised, blood pooling beneath his long, black coat, the tails of which lay like the broken wings of a dead crow across the white tiled floor. One leg was bent awkwardly beneath his body. He appeared to be dead.

“Which part of ‘stay where you are’ don’t you understand?” Jack demanded of Gwen, who had taken the centre spot and seemed to be in charge.

“We heard gunfire and since you didn’t have a weapon we were worried.” Gwen’s voice sounded petulant and he could see from the grave expressions on Owen’s and Tosh’s faces that she wasn’t alone in being pissed off with him.

“I thought I told you not to follow me!” Naturally, Jack resorted to attack as the best form of defence, even when it was the least suitable approach.

“Why the fuck do you do that?” Owen jabbed a finger at Jack, before making his way down to survey the damage done to his patient. “Doesn’t it ever occur to you that sometimes back-up is a good idea?” 

“It could’ve been dangerous,” Jack muttered belligerently, without taking on board the irony of his statement as he stood amongst the scattered debris and blood spatters of the fight that had taken place.

“Yeah – because you obviously had everything under control,” Owen replied sarcastically. “I can see how this would have been much worse if you’d let one of us watch your back.”

“He could have killed Ianto!” Jack retorted.

“Jack, you’re not the only one to worry about him, you know,” chided Tosh as she ran down the steps, her heels clicking as they struck the concrete stairs. 

She moved towards Ianto, who was tentatively swinging his legs over to one side so that he could sit up. It annoyed Tosh that Jack sometimes forgot that they cared about one another and that he didn’t have sole rights to concern for members of the team, even those he was sleeping with. 

Ianto gratefully draped an arm over Tosh’s deceptively strong shoulders, as Owen took the other side and they helped him lower his feet gently to the ground so he could lean against the autopsy tray. Tosh knew how much he hated lying on that surface, as he was the one whose task it was to clean it up after Owen finished using it for alien dissections.

“Where’s Rhys then?” asked Gwen, keeping her weapon trained on Patrick, whilst looking around frantically.

“I haven’t a clue – but remember, it was your idea to have me leave Ianto and let Rhys watch over him instead – not mine!” 

The glare that Jack gave Gwen could not be misunderstood. He wasn’t going to stand by while she accused him of placing her husband in danger, not when she’d been the one to insist on him being with her at the Hub since she’d turned up for work that morning. Not only that, but if he’d been there instead of Rhys, he wouldn’t have let Patrick anywhere near Ianto. 

“Don’t be such a cocky bastard, Jack. If anything has happened to Rhys-”

Before Jack had the chance to respond there was a hammering sound from one of the drawers of the cold storage cabinets.

“What the hell is that?” Tosh asked, pointing her gun in the direction from which the sound was coming.

Owen and Gwen shared a guilty look, one that caused Jack to frown. It was the sort of look you saw on people caught out doing something they had cause to be ashamed of. 

As Gwen ran her fingers through her hair, biting her lower lip and tried to compose herself, Owen moved past Jack to get to the drawer and pulled it out on its runners. Rhys was lying inside.

“Is it OK now? Ianto said I shouldn’t get out, not until I heard Jack arguing with Gwen. He said that would be the signal that it was safe to come out.”

Jack raised his eyebrows at Ianto, who merely shrugged in reply to the unspoken question.

“Rhys? What were you doing in there, love?” Gwen swallowed back her pang of guilt as she held out a hand to him.

“After you’d all gone, Ianto woke up. He told me to fetch him the gun from one of those drawers, said we shouldn’t be unarmed just in case. Then, when we heard footsteps upstairs, Ianto said they didn’t belong to any of you lot and that I should hide and he’d pretend to be unconscious.”

There were five pairs of eyes on Ianto now, all surprised to varying degrees. He looked up and met Jack’s. 

“There wasn’t time to let you know,” Ianto mumbled, almost apologetically.

“How are you?” asked Jack.

“I’ve been better.” Ianto looked down at the ragged remains of his trousers. “Although someone owes me a new suit I think.”

Jack grimaced as took in the sight of what remained of Ianto’s suit, the trousers now consisted of one, blood-stained leg, the other ripped to tatters and showing the edges of his underwear. Gwen and Tosh tried hard not to stare and Owen just muttered about ungrateful teaboys who could just bleed to death and keep their haute couture intact in future.

“Gwen – maybe you’d like to take Rhys home now?” suggested Jack. “It’s been a long day.” 

Although Jack’s instruction was directed at Gwen, his eyes didn’t leave Ianto’s.

Before Gwen could open her mouth to protest, Rhys had grabbed her hand and was dragging her up the stairs and out of the Hub. He had picked up on the fact that Jack had a few private questions to ask of Ianto and didn’t want an audience. 

Tosh mentioned the fact that the Hub was still locked down and that she’d have to re-set the controls so that Gwen and Rhys could get out. Owen followed after Tosh, mumbling something about finding some fresh clothes for Ianto. Then they were alone.

“Why didn’t you shoot him when he put that drug in your IV bag?”

“I heard the message he sent you … if I got it wrong, I’d just end up arming him.”

Jack sighed, and before embarking on yet another round of accusations and demands, he reached out a hand to rest on Ianto’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“How are you feeling? Honestly?”

“Awful, but I think I’ll be OK if Owen gives me some painkillers and I get to lie down on a proper bed.”

“What about us? Are we –?” Jack whispered the words as he moved closer to Ianto, placing his hand carefully around his waist and pulling him into an embrace.

“I shot him to keep you here,” Ianto spoke softly in reply. “Doesn’t that answer your question?”

“Very touching. You two are your own worst enemies, did you know that?”

“What?” Jack spun around to see Patrick fumbling blindly with his wrist strap, his blood-slicked fingers slipping on the buttons.

“No – you bastard!!” Jack pulled out the gun that Ianto had used earlier and shot at Patrick’s arm, but he wasn’t fast enough. 

Jack and Ianto watched in horror as shimmering, golden waves of vortex energy wrapped their tendrils around Patrick and transported him out of the Hub. 

He had disappeared before their eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Now, Tosh!!!!” 

Jack jerked his head up in shock as he heard Owen shouting. He saw him leaning over the railing on the balcony overlooking the autopsy bay.

“You two – get out of the fucking way!” Owen yelled in warning, waving his arms frantically.

As Jack stared at Owen in total confusion, Ianto’s attention was captured by the peculiar display reflecting on the white tiled walls. He grabbed hold of Jack’s arm to alert him to what was going on. Where the pale yellow, shimmering glow was beginning to fade, a striking, blue-white light had appeared and was greedily sucking the last of the golden tendrils into its very core. With a loud crack, the dazzling aura collapsed in on itself, the violent implosion leaving a scent of ozone in the air. 

Time had seemed to stand still as they’d been mesmerised by the lights and then all of a sudden there wasn’t time to react. Jack barely had the chance to shelter Ianto from the blast before the shockwave knocked them both flying. They landed against the wall, winded, the trolley and gurney upended next to them. Only Jack’s quick reflexes and outstretched foot had prevented the trolley from slamming into Ianto as it came crashing towards them.

“What the fuck was that?” asked Ianto, as soon as he caught his breath, pointing at the empty space. 

“You OK?” Jack asked as he helped Ianto to his feet, checking the bandage on his thigh for fresh blood stains, anxious that the stitches had not been torn out. 

Ianto just shook his head in disbelief and leaned heavily on Jack, letting him take his weight.

“Jack, what just happened?”

“I’ve an idea what it was, however, what I really want to know is why.” Jack’s face was ashen and his voice harsh. “Owen?”

“Hang on a minute – Tosh?”

“I’ve got it, Owen,” Tosh’s disembodied voice called out in reply from somewhere beyond their field of view. “Just checking in with Gwen…yes, we’re all OK.”

Tosh then appeared next to Owen, looking rather like a child that had done something outrageously naughty, yet was still immeasurably proud of it. 

“You fucking did it!” exclaimed Owen, as if in total awe of her. He held up the palm of his hand for her to slap enthusiastically in return.


	44. Chapter 44

“Tosh? What did you do?” Ianto asked nervously. He knew just how cunning she could be and from the look of thunder on Jack’s face, she had outdone herself this time.

“Umm… well…” Tosh bit her lip and bashfully let her fringe fall across her eyes. 

“Have you any idea what you’ve done?” Jack demanded loudly.

“Oh, yes. I know precisely what I’ve done.” Tosh showed no sign of remorse whatsoever and was totally unfazed by Jack’s response. It was no worse than she’d expected.

“Jack, my head hurts enough already.” Ianto tugged at Jack’s sleeve. “Any chance you can tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Hang on there, Ianto. I’m still playing catch up myself. But I’ve got a feeling you’re going to need to sit down for this. Owen, can you give me a hand here?” 

Owen nodded as he ran past them to pick up his office chair and wheel it over to Ianto. He grabbed a grubby sheet and used it to brush the broken glass to one side, so that Ianto wouldn’t stand on it in bare feet. Between them they got Ianto to sit down, Jack fussing with a pillow behind his back, whilst Owen did a quick check on the state of his bandaged leg. 

The sound of footsteps on the hard floor alerted Jack to the fact that not only had Tosh joined them, but that she wasn’t alone. He turned to see that Gwen had also returned, taking up position beside Tosh, while Rhys sat quietly on the bottom step, his brow furrowed as if expecting trouble. Jack had the uncomfortable feeling he’d been left out of the loop and that was always guaranteed to really piss him off. He stood back, his arms crossed in front of his chest, making his annoyance perfectly clear.

“OK, who called a staff meeting and didn’t bother inviting me?” 

“I did. What did you expect, Jack? You decided to piss off on your own again and more or less told the rest of us to keep out of your way.” Gwen’s accusation was irrefutable. 

Jack’s mouth opened as if to argue, but Owen spoke up quickly before he had the chance.

“You were insisting on going it alone – we figured Patrick wouldn’t be bothered with us, so we let you go ahead and act as a decoy. We didn’t take into account the possibility of you rolling about on the bloody floor with the bastard.” Owen gestured at the debris still scattered about the autopsy bay. “That nearly screwed the whole fucking thing up. Lucky for you, Ianto was cleverer than we thought he’d be – no offence, mate, but you were out for the count last time I saw you.”

“None taken. I think.” Ianto frowned, not entirely sure if he’d been complimented or insulted. The latter he was used to, the former would need adjusting to.

Jack rubbed his hand through his hair, trying to make sense of what was being said.

“So…Gwen, you were all planning this revolt from the moment I left the boardroom?”

“Yes, as soon as you insisted on being the damn hero, yet again, we got to work. You’d told us that Patrick’s wrist strap was like John Hart’s and that he was a Time Agent. Knowing what we do about John, it seemed likely that sooner or later Patrick would pull the same trick and do a disappearing act. Tosh pulled up the records of that encounter and took it from there.”

“It was quite simple really.” Tosh shrugged as if it had been child’s play. “I figured out that if Hart used the Rift energy to boost his teleportation through several dimensions, then there should be a way to manipulate the tachyon particles harnessed. I reversed the polarity on the sub-etheric resonator and then used the signal from his vortex manipulator as a focal axis for a tiny aperture in the Rift. As soon as he tapped into the time vortex, the temporal energy was subsumed by that of the Rift itself. Whatever co-ordinates he set would have been bypassed completely.”

“Fucking brilliant, if I say so myself.” Owen grinned. “You need to pay that girl more, you know.”

Tosh’s eyes sparkled at the genuine compliment. The fact that it was from Owen meant all the more to her. 

Rhys shook his head slowly and met Gwen’s eyes briefly. She let him know by way of a subtle shrug that she didn’t have a clue either.

“Right, that explains what you did, I think. But there’s still something I don’t get.” Jack stared at Owen and pointed at him. “You checked the body – I saw you crouch down and then turn and nod to Tosh.” 

Jack gestured from Owen to Tosh, frowning as he reviewed his earlier observations in a new light. 

“I thought you were confirming he was dead. But you weren’t, were you?”

“Guilty as charged. You were too wrapped up in worrying about Ianto to pay proper attention to the body on the floor. You saw all the blood, watched me bend down to check and then look to Tosh in approval. Wishful thinking, you wanted him dead and you were ready to accept that.”

“Like Owen said, you allowed yourself to believe he’d been killed without checking for yourself,” Gwen piped up, smiling. “It’s what we were counting on.”

“What d’you mean by that?”

“We really didn’t expect that he’d end up shot – sorry, Ianto love,” Gwen sighed softly. “But we didn’t expect you to arm yourself.” 

“That’s alright, everyone underestimates me.” Ianto raised an eyebrow and shook his head at Jack, not allowing him to even try to contradict him. “I’m used to it.” 

“If you knew he wasn’t dead, what would you have done, Jack?” Gwen challenged. “Interrogated him? Tortured him? That would have made you as bad as he was. We couldn’t let you do that to yourself. He’d done enough harm as it was.”

“You could’ve just shot him.” Jack was looking more and more exasperated. “There was no need to open the damn Rift!”

“Shoot an injured man? When he can’t defend himself?” Owen intercepted the argument. “That would go against the Hippocratic Oath.”

“You’re dead, Owen.” Jack jabbed a finger at him to emphasise the point. “I’m pretty certain they can’t hold you to that any more!” 

“What do you mean he’s dead?” Rhys yelled out. The rest of the discussion had flown over his head, but he understood that statement and it made no bloody sense at all. 

“It’s complicated, love,” muttered Gwen, patting her husband’s arm. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Gwen-” hissed Jack, a warning note in his voice as he spoke quietly. “Please don’t make me get out the Retcon again.” 

Tosh took a step towards Jack, placing a hand on his arm. 

“The point is that I don’t suffer from Owen’s medical qualms or Gwen’s conscientious objections, so I carried out what could be considered a more imaginative means of disposal. My calculations were spot on, Jack. There won’t be any cracks as a result of this, I promise. I only needed to create the tiniest of openings in the Rift to make it work.”

Ianto had been listening carefully and frowned as the facts settled into place, alongside the odd phrase from Tosh and Jack’s reactions. He could feel the waves of fury rolling off Jack and knew from experience that it was going to take a hell of a lot to calm him down. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

“Tosh – are you saying that you opened the Rift and sent Patrick on a one-way trip?”

“Yes. I sent that bastard back to hell.”

“You what?”

“After what he did to you, Ianto, it’s nothing less than he deserved. I hope he rots there.”

Ianto shook his head and closed his eyes, not wanting to acknowledge either the pitying looks from Gwen, or the sympathetic shrug from Owen. The last thing he wanted was for them all to feel sorry for him. As for Jack, he didn’t have to look at him to know he was livid. After the whole Abaddon affair, there had been implicit instructions that no one was to open the Rift, even by as much as a nanometre, without Jack’s express approval. Of course, those regulations had never been written up officially, the instigator of said rules having vanished without notice mere hours after laying down the law regarding the manipulation of the Rift. 

On a personal basis, Ianto wasn’t sure whether he should be horrified at what Tosh had done or just enormously relieved that she’d got rid of Patrick without anyone else getting hurt. He was still trying to get his head around the fact that he wasn’t responsible for Patrick’s games and that the psychotic creep had been after Jack all along. The ironic thing was that Jack had been blissfully ignorant of the ripples in time that his travels had set off, that was until the backwash had caught up with them all and had almost taken Ianto under, even threatening to drown him as the waves had washed over relentlessly. 

The full impact of Patrick’s accusations and revelations was slowly sinking in, alongside the after-effects of the demonstration of Jack’s apparently unsurpassable loyalty to the Doctor. He had questions he wanted to ask, but he knew they would have to wait. 

As if sensing Ianto’s troubled thoughts, Jack moved behind him to rest a hand on each shoulder, the solid warmth conveying both support and comfort. He had seen Ianto wince and could tell that the events of the past few days had reached critical mass, sufficient to inflict both physical and mental anguish. 

Meanwhile, Jack had to admit to himself that Tosh’s solution had been brilliant, daring even, but also dangerously reckless. He let out a breath slowly as he struggled to keep from flashing a grin and betraying just how much he had loved her plan, it had all the trademarks of something he would have done himself. It warmed his heart that it had been her strong feelings for Ianto that had prompted her to act in such a fierce and ruthless manner. Jack would definitely have to reconsider his attitude to her numerous warnings not to hurt Ianto. But for the time being he had to reassert his leadership and his rules.

“Tosh, you’re in charge of monitoring the Rift closely for the next forty-eight hours. You can go home, but you take a remote monitor with you and the moment it does so much as whimper I want you back here. The slightest of cracks, however small, you let me know straightaway. Got it?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll go and set up the full scanning programmes now.” Tosh stifled a smile as she witnessed a barely perceptible wink from Jack, despite his otherwise grim countenance. It set her mind at rest knowing that although he was upset with her unauthorised manipulation of the Rift, he resolutely approved of her elimination of their enemy.


	45. Chapter 45

Ianto felt Tosh trail her hand gently across his arm as she walked past him on her way out of the autopsy bay. Just a touch, a brush of her fingertips, but enough to say that she was there for him if he needed to talk. He ducked his head and smiled sadly to himself. He had a feeling he would be taking his friend up on that unspoken offer sooner rather than later.

“Gwen, it’s been a long day.” Jack raised his voice and spoke in a manner that brooked no argument. “It really is time you took Rhys home. ‘Take your husband to work day’ is now well and truly over.”

“But, Jack, you haven’t explained to me- I mean us- exactly what’s been going on,” complained Gwen, feeling aggrieved that, yet again, she had been deprived of the answers she felt that she was owed. “For a start, just what did he want from you?”

“Gwen, now isn’t the time to dig over that. Don’t you think Ianto has had enough for one day?” 

Jack knew that it was a dirty trick, effectively shifting some of his own guilt onto Gwen’s shoulders. He knew damn well that she would be reluctant to pursue her quest for answers if she thought it was hurting her friend and colleague. Jack could see her features soften as she looked across at Ianto sitting with one elbow resting on his good leg, the palm of his hand pressing against his forehead, a picture of utter exhaustion. Then her attention snapped back onto Jack and with one piercing look she realised exactly what he was up to. She glared at him and he could almost hear her thoughts, telling him just what a bastard he was. He nodded in tacit agreement. 

“What are you on about?” asked Rhys as he stood up to join Gwen. He hadn’t the foggiest idea what was being communicated without a word being said, but the atmosphere was getting thicker once more and he really wanted to get home. He took Gwen’s hand off her hip and held onto it tightly.

“I’m sorry, Rhys, there are things that you don’t need to know about.” Jack moved back and stood to the side of Ianto, his arms crossed defensively in front of his chest. “Be grateful that Gwen can share with you what she does. Go home and spend some time together doing whatever it is you do at home … something normal. Make the most of it.”

“What about you, Jack?” Gwen asked him, not really expecting a straight answer. She then looked across to Owen as well, wondering suspiciously if he’d be let in on the truth in her absence. “What are the rest of you going to do now then?” 

“I’m going to find out exactly what Tosh did to the Rift and make sure there aren’t any nasty surprises waiting to pounce on us. Owen, could you-?” Jack looked in Ianto’s direction, his voice wavering, his demeanour becoming less assured.

Owen could tell that Jack wanted to ask him to check on Ianto without making it too obvious that he was worried. Considering all that Ianto had been through, Jack had every right to be nervous, even Owen was concerned and that didn’t happen often. 

“I need to clear up the mess in here, someone’s been hiding in the sterile cabinets - again. I can get to it once all the bloody sightseers have buggered off and yes, Gwen, that does mean you and Mr Cooper … sorry, Williams. Go on, Jack’s just told the pair of you to go home and play at being a normal, married couple. Have fun, kids.”

Owen winked lewdly at Gwen as he shoved the drawer of the cold storage cabinet shut with his foot. He could see from the way her eyes widened that he had judged it just right. Without a backward look, she grabbed hold of Rhys and virtually dragged him up the stairs in her hurry to leave the Hub. Jack wasn’t the only one who could play dirty.

“Right, Jack, thanks to you this place is trashed. Why don’t you leave Ianto to me and I’ll doublecheck Tosh’s needlework before signing him off?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not giving Jack the option of hovering around, which would only prompt Ianto into saying he was feeling fine, Owen waited until he had gone to check on Tosh before carefully removing the discoloured dressings from the leg wound. He checked the extent of the deep tissue damage with the Bekaran scanner, which allowed him to see into the traumatised muscle block. Initially, he had just been intent on stopping the bleeding and limiting the damage. The swelling had gone down significantly, although the tissue surrounding the stitches was still very inflamed. Not surprising really, but he wanted to make sure there wasn’t any major infection deep in the wound that could travel along nerves where antibiotic treatments would be less effective. 

Owen frowned as he gently probed the wound, he could see Ianto grip hold of the side of the table, his knuckles white, and that was enough to convince him to go ahead with a shot of heavy duty painkillers. Although he had been reluctant to give Ianto anything opiate-based, the fact that he hadn’t asked for anything for the pain was a fair indication that the withdrawal symptoms of the drug that Patrick had given him were wearing off. Apart from anything else, a deep stab wound into the muscle itself was going to hurt like hell and without some serious medication there’d be no way Ianto would be able to walk on that leg. Owen thought he’d been through more than enough and wasn’t going to let him endure any more suffering in silence if he could do something to alleviate it.

Feeling sorry for Ianto sitting there in torn trousers and a shirt that looked worse for wear, Owen even provided him with a change of clothes from his own locker. He kept a set of clothes close to hand for those occasions when he ended up covered in the innards of some alien that had lost its structural integrity the moment he’d put a scalpel anywhere near it. 

Owen couldn’t help grinning as he took in the appearance of Ianto wearing a pair of his loose-fitting, frayed jeans, a baggy sweatshirt and old trainers. If Owen managed to appear a bit too casual in what he chose to wear to work, Ianto succeeded in looking like a complete slob and that was just so wrong. He idly wondered if that would be enough to keep Jack from pawing him as soon as he got the opportunity. 

“You might want to tell Jack you’ve got a headache tonight, anything too physical and chances are you’ll end up bleeding all over the sheets.”

“Really, Owen, is that all you think about?” Ianto rolled his eyes, knowing that Owen was masking his genuine concern with a veil of snark.

“Just giving you some advice, that’s all.” Owen then turned serious and tried to get Ianto to talk. “So, now I’ve checked that you’re not on death’s door, just what the fuck was all that about? Who was that Irishman and what was going on between him and Jack? I thought it was you he was after.”

“If you want answers you’ll have to ask Jack,” Ianto stalled. “But not today. I really don’t think he’s in the mood to talk.”

“Yeah, I’m forced to agree with you there. Now, are you going to want a crutch or are you going to be pathetic and limp everywhere so the dashing captain has to rush to your side?” 

“Fuck off, Owen.”

“That’s no way to talk to the man who controls your pain meds. But it’s nice to know you’re feeling better.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto unsteadily walked up the stairs, slowly taking one step at a time and leaning heavily on the rail. Tosh had offered to help, but he was anxious to see Jack on his own. And there was no way he was asking Owen, not after the look on his face when he’d told him that the bag of saline he’d put back in the fridge, with all the others, contained a lethal dose of heroin. He stopped, out of breath, a few steps short of the balcony outside Jack’s office and, as his breathing became less harsh, he could pick out phrases in an animated phone conversation. 

“It’s vital I talk to him. Yes, it is urgent… It’s about a few trips… you know the sort. Yeah, I know.” Jack was using his pleading voice, the one that he reserved for getting something he wanted desperately. Then he sighed wistfully. “Yeah, of course I remember what he said. But things have changed… I need to … there are things I need to tell him… Thanks Martha, you’re an angel. Oh yeah, definitely unforgettable …” 

Jack was laughing, chuckling at something that Martha had apparently said.

Ianto felt the blood drain from his face and a cold weight solidify in his empty stomach. The only explanation for what he was hearing was that Jack was planning to leave again. Of course, he now had the means to make his wrist strap work again. He didn’t have to stay in Cardiff any longer. His heart heavy with disappointment, Ianto turned around and wearily made his way back down the stairs.

“Ianto? Are you OK?” Tosh called out, glancing up as she heard footsteps scraping on the stairs. 

She’d thought Ianto would stay put once he got to Jack’s office and was surprised to see him lowering his body gingerly to sit down on the bottom step. She was certain that he hadn’t had time to make it all the way up and back, not the way he had been moving. Looking at his face, she could tell he was in pain.

“Yeah, I’m …I’m fine. Really.” Looking down at the worn jeans, Ianto found himself wishing he could get hold of the clothes he had stashed away in Jack’s quarters. “He’s busy right now, so I’ll leave my stuff. Maybe you could ask if he could pack it up for me? No, don’t bother, I’ll probably need to keep some of it here …” 

“What’s wrong, Ianto? What are you talking about?” asked Tosh, worried at the way Ianto sounded - disorientated and confused. “What are you saying? Where are you going?”

“I’m going to take a taxi home. I’ll have to use the Torchwood account – I don’t seem to have my wallet… or my keys.” Ianto frowned as he couldn’t remember where either his keys or wallet were.

“I’ll lend you some cash if you like.” Tosh smiled as she watched Ianto nod in relief. “Or if you wait, I’ll give you a lift. I’ve still got the spare key for your house.” 

“Some cash would be great and so would the key. Thanks, Tosh… for everything … I know Jack’s a bit pissed off, but that’s because you stole his glory. He hates it when he doesn’t get to be the one to save the day.”

“He’ll get over it. He always does.” Tosh got up from her seat and crouched down next to Ianto. “Please don’t go yet. Why don’t you wait until Jack’s finished on the phone?”

“I hate goodbyes. I’ll … it’s better this way…less awkward for him…”

“I can’t persuade you to stay here a bit longer then?” She was confused and worried. 

If Tosh didn’t know Ianto better she would have shouted out for Jack to come talk some sense into him. But for some reason it seemed that he didn’t want to bother Jack and so she would respect his wishes.

“No need anymore is there?” Ianto pressed his lips tightly together to keep his voice from cracking. “Anyway, I’ll be safe enough at home now, thanks to you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. So, how about you lend me twenty quid and find that house key for me?” Ianto tilted his head to one side and gifted Tosh with a smile that tried but failed to convince either of them that all was well.

Tosh took her handbag from the deep drawer of her desk and pulled a couple of notes out of her purse. She rummaged deeper and found the house key, its distinctive red keyring making it relatively easy to find.

“Here, take forty pounds and get something to eat on the way home or call for take out as soon as you get home. Promise me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ianto gratefully took the two twenty pound notes and then the Welsh dragon keyring, and tucked them into the pocket of the horrendous sweatshirt that Owen had lent him.

“What about Jack?” Tosh asked, hoping for a reaction that would give her a clue as to what was going on in Ianto’s head.

“He’ll be fine,” Ianto replied quietly, stealing a glance in the direction of the office and then looking away fast, not meeting Tosh’s eyes.

“Ianto –?”

Before she could say anything else that may have swayed his opinion, Ianto pulled himself to his feet and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. Then without another word, he slowly limped towards the exit, hands stuffed in the pockets of the jeans and his head down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ianto!” Jack bellowed from the doorway to his office before rushing down the stairs, looking from left to right, a broad grin plastered on his face.

Tosh looked up from her computer and then back again at the clock in the corner of the screen. It had only been nine minutes. There was still time for Jack to make things better.

“He’s gone home. Left about ten minutes ago.”

“What?” The grin disappeared without trace. “He never said anything about leaving tonight. I assumed he’d be staying here…” 

“So did I, but I think something made him change his mind.” Tosh gave Jack a pointed look.

“He can’t go home-” 

“Why not?” she shrugged, deliberately misunderstanding Jack. “It should be perfectly safe now.”

“That’s not what I meant…” mumbled Jack miserably, completely thrown off balance. 

Jack’s plan had been for Owen to check Ianto’s injuries and state of health generally, whilst he rang Martha. He needed to make sure the Doctor knew that his travels had earned the unwelcome interest of certain unscrupulous factions of the Time Agency. Once that was done, he’d intended to send Tosh and Owen home for the night, before getting around to making up for actions both taken and not taken. He’d planned to clear the decks so that he could devote as much time as necessary to make up to Ianto for all he’d been through. But what was the point if he wasn’t there?

“What’s going on, Jack?” Tosh could almost hear the workings of his mind as he retraced his steps to work out where he’d cocked up this time.

“I don’t know … I was expecting to come down here and find him waiting for me.” Jack was becoming more anxious now, looking around the Hub as if Ianto was hidden away from him somewhere. “Didn’t he say anything? Give any reason for not staying?”

“Did he know that you were expecting him to stay? Did you bother asking him?” Tosh asked rhetorically, knowing full well that Jack would have just assumed that Ianto had guessed his intentions without being told. Normally he would, but under ordinary circumstances Ianto wouldn’t have been drugged and tortured by a psychotic bastard from the future.

“I didn’t think I’d have to. He always knows what I want,” Jack admitted guiltily, realising, not for the first time, that he had taken for granted that Ianto would second guess him.

“He did make it half way to your office,” Tosh informed Jack with a sigh. “But he never got all the way. He stopped just before the top of the stairs and then came back again.” 

“I didn’t hear him.” Jack shook his head, mournfully. “I was on the phone …”

“I really hope you haven’t said or done anything to upset him.” Tosh scowled meaningfully at Jack. “He said that he was going to get a taxi and go home. He seemed, I don’t know … depressed?”

“All I was doing was talking to Martha.” Jack frowned, looking perplexed. He knew that Ianto wasn’t jealous of his old friend; he’d shown him that he had nothing to worry about on that score. 

“Martha? Why?” Tosh wondered why on earth Jack would choose to get in touch with another medic. Owen was more than capable of treating Ianto’s leg wound. 

“I needed to talk to her, see if I could get in touch with the – oh, shit!” 

It hit Jack suddenly how his conversation may have sounded to Ianto. The fact that he’d sounded cheerful, and was actually laughing, would have only added salt to the untreated wounds he’d inflicted by allowing Ianto to be brutally tormented rather than divulge his knowledge of the Doctor to the psychopath with a knife.

“What is it, Jack? What have you done?” demanded Tosh, taking in the look of horror on Jack’s face.

“Quick – where is he? Find him for me,” Jack blurted out urgently as he jabbed his finger at the monitor of her computer.

It didn’t take long for Tosh to pull up the CCTV feed that showed Ianto sitting on the steps behind the water tower. She had been furtively spying on him since he’d gone through the cog door. Although it had occurred to her to stop him, with Owen’s help if necessary, she decided that letting him go would force Jack into taking action. Making him chase after Ianto would hopefully do them both good.

Jack reached out a hand to the screen as if he could pluck the figure from the steps and bring him safely back. Ianto appeared almost motionless, hunched over in the blowing gusts that were driving in off the bay and whipping the slender saplings, planted in front of the pub, to and fro. It struck Jack that Ianto appeared just as vulnerable and likely to snap as those young trees.


	46. Chapter 46

Ianto was watching the light columns alternate from green to purple and then red to blue, focusing on the patterns and thinking his favourite combination was probably the green and purple. If he let his eyes drift out of focus the lights blurred together. He turned his gaze to the brightly lit words shining forth from the Millennium Centre and then back at the water tower which was nearer to where he was sitting. There was no water cascading down the tower, it was always turned off when the wind was too strong. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a figure dashed towards him, the flying coat tails declaring its identity long before he heard Jack’s voice shouting out his name.

By the time Jack reached the steps, he was shocked by Ianto’s appearance, seeing close up how totally despondent he appeared, cold and alone. He hadn’t even bothered pulling up the hood of the sweatshirt to protect him from the cold wind.

“Ianto – what the hell are you doing out here?” As soon as the words were out, Jack regretted them. The flash of raw pain he saw glisten in Ianto’s eyes, before he looked away, bore testimony to the fact that he was the reason that Ianto was where he was, in more ways than one. 

Ianto took a slow, deep breath and concentrated on collecting his wits around him in what he hoped would be an impenetrable barrier. He needed to keep calm and not react if he was to have any chance of maintaining his dignity intact. The fact that he was sitting on a cold, concrete step in jeans that were an inch or two too short wasn’t helping.

“Waiting for a taxi.” Ianto tried to keep the tone of his voice light. He pointed at the road behind him, where the lights of the pub and the bar spilled out. “There are usually a few coming down Bute Crescent at this time of night.”

Jack sat down on the step next to Ianto and took a good look at him. He was a mess, wearing what looked like Owen’s ill-fitting cast offs, his face still sporting an array of bruises and cuts. His hair was totally unkempt and there was stubble on his chin. The Ianto they all saw as the immaculately dressed, quietly confident and ultra-efficient backbone of Torchwood 3 had been eroded away before his eyes and he’d not done enough to stop that happening. Jack berated himself for his negligence of the man who would do anything for him and slid an arm around his shoulders to pull him in as close as he could, determined to make this right. 

“Why do you need a taxi?” Jack asked quietly, with no hint of accusation. “I thought you’d be staying at the Hub?”

“I can’t really. I mean, it’s not as if I can get down that bloody ladder and as for sharing that bed of yours with my leg in this state-” Ianto lifted his straightened leg up to show its limited range of movement, thanks to the thick bandages Owen had insisted on wrapping around it. 

“So, if you’re not staying here, where are you going?” Jack asked, convinced that Ianto was making excuses.

“Home.” Ianto bit his lip as a gut feeling told him that this had been his home, here with this man, not a terraced, Victorian house on the other side of town.

“Why there?” 

“There’s no reason not to, not now.”

“What about me?” 

“Are…are you going to stop me?” Ianto shrugged, as if to make out that his response was more nonchalant than the nervous stammer would suggest. 

“No…. no,” muttered Jack hesitantly. He wanted to shout out ‘yes’ and then grab Ianto to keep him there with him, but he knew just how stubborn Ianto was and there would be no point in trying to force him. “No, I won’t stand in your way, not if that’s what you want.” 

“Well then, if that’s all, I’ll be on my way.” Ianto ducked forward and grasped hold of a railing to pull himself to his feet, ignoring Jack’s offer of help.

“Ianto?” Jack stood up quickly and blocked Ianto’s way. “Please don’t go.” 

Ianto looked to the side and then sighed. Ignoring Jack’s plea, he stood his ground – holding onto the railing for support.

“When are you off then?” Ianto asked quietly, almost conversationally.

“Off where?” Jack shook his head, not understanding. There were many things he’d been expecting to hear from Ianto, but that hadn’t been on the list. 

“How the fuck should I know?” retorted Ianto, angrily, now glaring at Jack – staring him in the eye. He shoved at Jack, pushing him back, out of his personal space, conveying his bottled-up anger and exasperation loud and clear. 

The explosion of anger wasn’t entirely unexpected, although it was far more vehement than Jack had anticipated. 

“Where? When? Who with?” Ianto shouted in Jack’s face, poking him in the ribs as he let go of any façade of calm acceptance. “Does it matter? Do I matter?” 

Ianto turned away abruptly and made to go back down the steps, but Jack swung over the railings and yet again blocked his way, his face pale with shock. 

“Ianto, I swear to you, I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not tonight-”

“Tomorrow then … what difference does it make?” Ianto flung back with growing annoyance at what he believed to be Jack’s evasion of the truth.

“Please listen to me. I am not leaving anytime soon and if I ever do have to leave, I’ll be coming back-”

“For Torchwood-?” 

“Yes, but also for you, you idiot!”

Jack moved quickly to catch hold of Ianto before he toppled over. He wasn’t sure if it was the result of the leg injury, lack of food or what he’d said, but something seemed to have pulled the ground from under the younger man’s feet.

Holding Ianto close to his chest, Jack could feel him trembling. Instinctively, he wrapped the sides of his coat around them both, drawing Ianto into the warmth. 

“I heard you. On the phone. Making arrangements-” mumbled Ianto.

“What did you hear?” asked Jack, his lips close to Ianto’s ear. 

“Enough. You were talking to Martha… about him…. you sounded happy.”

“Yes,” sighed Jack as he realised his fears were true. “I needed to get in touch, give him a heads-up on a deranged Time Agent gone missing in the Rift.” 

Jack stroked Ianto’s hair, desperate to reassure him that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

“What?” Ianto sounded confused as he tried to match what Jack was saying with what he’d overheard. “But you were talking about travelling-”

“I know. But you have my word. I’m not going anywhere, Ianto.”

“Really?”

“Did you really think I’d just turn my back on you? After everything that’s happened?”

“I didn’t want to believe it. But…” Ianto shook his head slowly, hoping that he wasn’t imagining this conversation.

“I accept that you have every reason to be mad at me. I’ve underestimated you and taken you for granted, not to mention that I let you get hurt…” 

Ianto nestled further into the warmth provided by Jack’s coat and sniffed.

“Now you mention it, I am still fucking pissed off with you.” 

“What can I do to make up for that? Name it. Anything… I’d do anything…”

“You could get me something to eat.”

“Really?” Jack chuckled.

“I’m starving.”

“I’m not surprised – a slice of toast and one Welsh cake are barely enough to sustain anyone.”

“Wasn’t hungry then. Now I’m ravenously hungry and tired.”

“OK then, let’s feed you. Then you need sleep. You’re probably right about staying over at the Hub. You need to sleep in a proper bed tonight.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But I don’t want you going home alone, not after what happened there.”

“I’ll be fine.” Ianto shrugged, hoping Jack would offer to come back with him, but suspecting that there was too much to do at the Hub for Jack to be able to do anything more than give him a lift.

“No, you won’t. I don’t want you there by yourself, not tonight-” 

“It’s not as if you can stay with me…”

“Why not?” Jack grinned. “Don’t you want me to?”

“Of course, I want you to,” Ianto sighed. “It’s just that … you’ve got too much else to do.”

“No, Ianto. You should have been my priority. I screwed up. Let me try to make it up to you, please?”

Ianto nodded, really hoping he wasn’t imagining this entire conversation.

“OK then, that’s that sorted. Now, where would you like me to take you to eat?” Jack asked nervously, as he slid an arm down to curl around Ianto’s hips, hugging him closer.

“Have you seen what I’m wearing?” Ianto rolled his eyes and pulled back so that Jack could fully appreciate his unflattering outfit. “Typical – you never got around to taking me out on that date and when you do actually decide to ask me out to dinner, that’s when I look like something the local fishermen would throw back in the water.”

“I didn’t want to say – but, seeing as you mentioned it first, why the hell are you wearing that?” Jack stuck his nose into the hood of the sweatshirt and inhaled deeply. “Owen. I thought it was one of his. Is there something you want to tell me about?”

“Don’t even think of suggesting that. It’s not that I have any prejudices against dead people… after all I do sleep with a man that regularly dies… but not when he’s dead… no, never slept with you when you weren’t totally alive … no…”

Jack smiled indulgently as Ianto rambled on, letting him run out of words before taking his hand and placing a mobile phone into the palm of it.

“Takeaway it is then. Here’s my phone – you order something we can pick up on the way back to your place and I’ll go fetch the SUV. You’d also better call Tosh and let her know I’m giving you a lift home, otherwise I think she’ll find a way to make me suffer.” 

“You’re scared of Tosh?” asked Ianto, his eyebrows raised.

“She garrotted a six-foot-tall thug with her stockings. What’s not to be afraid of?”

“Point taken.” Ianto nodded in agreement. “Oh yes, hidden depths indeed … she was awesome.”

“You gonna be OK out here?” Jack looked across the Plass, it seemed quiet, but they had yet to ascertain whether Patrick had any back-up lurking around.

“Yep. I’ll be fine.” Ianto took Jack’s hand and placed it on his hip and then slid it forward so that Jack could feel the tell-tale bulge of a handgun tucked into the top of his borrowed jeans.

“Right, good.” Jack nodded, encouraged by the clear indication that Ianto was more than ready to defend himself. The fact that his survival instincts had kicked back in, even though he’d been convinced that Jack was about to leave with the Doctor, was heartening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The curtains across the road twitched as soon as the SUV’s tyres bounced up onto the kerb. Jack took the warm, steaming carrier bag from Ianto and leaned over him to wave cheekily at the lady who was pretending to dust the porcelain cats on her windowsill. Ianto just shook his head in despair.

“Just wait ’til Mrs Evans sees what you’re wearing.” Jack grinned wickedly as he pointed at the bare ankle showing between the bottom of the jeans and the battered trainers. “She’ll think I got you to dress up for me like a school kid, in scruffy jeans and a hoodie. Imagine the gossip tomorrow.”

“Oh dear God, just when I thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse.” Ianto buried his face in his hands and groaned. “Did you know that the results of Gwen’s door-to-door interviews only threw up one suspicious person having visited my house … they all mentioned a long military coat and nice teeth. And it turns out that one of my neighbours is under the impression that I run a male escort service -” 

“Oh – that would be my fault.” Jack tried and failed to look contrite.

“What?”

“The nasty looking lady with the snappy dachshund stopped and asked me one day what I was doing here, so I -”

“I’m going to have to move, aren’t I?” groaned Ianto in despair.

“There’s always room at the Hub.”

“Not in your bed there isn’t.” 

Wishing to put an end to the conversation, even though he appreciated the fact that Jack was playing along with his attempt to lighten the mood with humour, Ianto gingerly stepped out of the SUV onto the pavement. 

So delighted was he at the return to the banter he enjoyed so much, Jack enthusiastically threw open his door only to have to pull it back again quickly to avoid knocking a cyclist flying.

“If you could avoid killing the local vicar that’d be nice,” Ianto called out as he leant against the passenger door.

“I’ll try harder. I promise,” Jack said, almost sincerely, as he locked the doors of the SUV.

“So – those cameras were a complete waste of time then?” Ianto gazed up at the corner behind the cobweb as he moved stiffly towards the front door.

“He must have disabled them with his wrist strap,” suggested Jack. The thought of that creep having spied on Ianto and then broken into his home, on more than one occasion, sent an icy chill down his spine.

“Can you do that? Switch them off?” Ianto asked out of curiosity.

“You want me to?” Jack felt bad enough about having set up the surveillance in the first place without consulting Ianto and was obliged to give him the option to dispense with it.

“Yes. I don’t want my house to be watched, by anyone.” Ianto didn’t care whose cameras they were, he didn’t want his privacy invaded.

“You’ve got it.” Jack flipped open the cover of his wrist strap and pressed a couple of buttons. His action was rewarded with a smile of gratitude.

“Jack, how did he get in?” Ianto paused in the midst of turning the key in the lock, the red dragon dangling under the key ring. “I can understand how that wrist thing can operate electronic devices, but this is a Yale lock, he must have had a key.”

“Yeah, that’s the only conclusion I can come to as well.” Jack shrugged apologetically, wishing he knew just how Patrick had got a key. “We’ll get the locks changed tomorrow, I promise.”

“Thanks.” 

Jack waited patiently for Ianto to open the door, ignoring the slight shaking of his hand and resisting the urge to turn the key for him. He knew how important it was to let Ianto take back control. This had been his home and he had to reclaim it if he was to lay the ghost of Patrick to rest.

As the door swung inwards, it caught on a pile of mail that had built up. Jack reached across to push the door firmly to force it open. Ianto walked through first and made the mistake of trying to kick the remaining letters and flyers to one side, and ending up wincing in pain for his efforts. 

“You OK? You want me to check through those for you?” Jack pointed at the scattered mail across the door mat. He was unpleasantly reminded of a sinister postcard sent to Ianto not so very long ago; he really, really hoped there were no more nasty surprises in store for them.

“No, leave them where they are. The food will go cold,” replied Ianto, pointing at the bag of takeaway.

As Jack followed Ianto into the kitchen, it struck him how much worse it would have been for him to have faced this alone. He was finding it bad enough; he couldn’t imagine how awful it was for Ianto.

“Jack!” Ianto shouted out urgently, a note of horror in his voice.

“What? What is it?” Jack almost dropped the food on the floor in his haste to rush to Ianto’s side.

“The table – there are water stains on the wood. Somebody put down hot drinks on the pine table without using coasters!”

“Oh, that. Well the good news is that it wasn’t Goldilocks…” Jack’s silly grin was wiped off his face by an accusatory glare for Ianto. “And it wasn’t me either for that matter. The bad news …”

“Patrick?”

“I assume so – Owen and I found two chess pieces in cups of coffee left on the table.”

“OK. I can do this,” muttered Ianto as he turned around to face a kitchen cabinet. Taking a deep breath, he tugged open the door and pulled out two plates, not the best china, in case he did manage to drop them. “Can you get out some cutlery, please.”

“The drawer by the sink?”

“Yep.” Ianto put the plates on the table, unable to take his eyes off the permanent marks. “Jack? It is over now, isn’t it?”

“Yes – it’s over.” 

Jack left the drawer open and turned around to pull Ianto into his arms. Feeling the tension gradually ease away from his lover’s body, he allowed himself to indulge in a kiss that he’d been desperate to steal ever since they had sorted out their misunderstanding earlier. He’d been waiting until the moment was right, not wanting Ianto to think he was just trying to distract him. 

The last time they had stood together in this kitchen they had shared a kiss, Ianto teasing him with his adoration of Jack’s coat. This time was no different in terms of intensity or passion; although this time those feelings were fuelled by the sense of having survived despite the odds having been stacked against them.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost the end, just the Epilogue to go after this.  
>  The second half of this chapter does include a fairly explicit bedroom scene, but not overly graphic ... I think it's quite tasteful, but I am biased.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once they’d eaten as much of the Chinese takeaway as they could and had put the leftovers into the fridge, it had been Jack’s suggestion that Ianto take a bath.

Despite the old wives’ tales about the inadvisability of having a bath directly after eating, Ianto was desperate enough to rid himself of Owen’s clothes and get cleaned up to put aside any misgivings. As Jack stood behind him to help him out of the ill-fitting jeans, easing the fabric carefully over the bulky bandage, he felt him pause to trace a finger over the back of his leg. 

“It’s alright, Jack. Really. Owen said it will heal up fine.”

“That’s not the point, it’s my fault it happened in the first place.” Jack could see patches of dried blood either side of the white gauze, reminding him of how close it had been. 

“Drop it, that conversation will save for another day. Now, are you going to help me get into this bath you’ve run or are you waiting for me to fall over and knock myself out on the toilet?”

“Give me a second or two.” 

Jack quickly stripped off his shirt and trousers and threw them out onto the landing to join the pile of clothing that Ianto had seemed particularly pleased to remove. Then he got Ianto to place an arm across his shoulders as he carefully helped him lift the uninjured leg into the bath and lower his body down slowly, all the time keeping his right leg out of the herbal scented water. 

“Want me to wash your hair?” 

“You don’t have to-” Ianto began to shake his head and then stopped to reconsider. It was going to be awkward enough bathing without getting his bandage wet. “Ignore that… yes, please, Jack, that would be wonderful.”

“My pleasure.”

Jack took the bottle of shampoo from the shelf and crouched down beside the bath tub. He couldn’t help smiling with delight as he heard Ianto sigh contentedly as he sank back into the warm water, allowing his eyes to close. 

Ianto allowed himself the luxury of almost drifting off, the comfort of having his head sensuously massaged whilst lying in a lavender-scented bath seeming unreal. There had been times during that day when he didn’t think he’d survive to see nightfall, let alone live to be pampered by Jack in his own home.

“I suppose I should be grateful it was my right leg,” mumbled Ianto.

“What?” Jack asked, stilling his hands that were covered in lather.

“If he’d stabbed my left leg I wouldn’t be able to lie back in the bath like this.”

“Trust you to think of the practicalities.” Jack shook his head, but was glad to note that his Ianto was returning. As Jack used the shower head to sluice away the suds, he imagined he was rinsing away the events of the day. If only life could be that simple, he sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the centre of a cocoon of soft, white towels, Ianto sat against the door on the floor of the small bathroom. Jack had insisted that he wait there whilst he grabbed a quick shower, he didn’t want Ianto to go into the bedroom alone, not after their last time there. The look on Ianto’s face when he’d discovered the chess piece on a bloodstained pillow was one he didn’t want to see again in a hurry. Despite all the encouraging signs that Ianto was finally beginning to recover from his ordeals, he didn’t want to take any chances. 

Rubbing himself down briskly with a single hand towel, Jack crouched down on the floor.

“I’m going to change the sheets. Where d’you keep the clean ones?”

“Airing cupboard, shelf above the immersion heater.” Ianto frowned; puzzled that Jack would want to put clean sheets on his bed before they’d even slept in it. “You are staying the night, aren’t you?”

Jack placed a hand on either side of his face and kissed him softly on the lips.

“I told you earlier – not going anywhere. I’m staying here. But after …well … what he left there, I thought it would be better to –”

“Thank you, Jack.” Ianto had almost forgotten the knight that had been left in his bed, placed in such a way to mimic the thoroughly unpleasant, yet iconic, horse’s head scene from The Godfather. “You’re right. There’s a burgundy set in there, matching duvet cover and pillow cases all in one bag.”

“Sounds good to me. Have I told you how much I love you in red?”

“Yes, I think you might have …once or twice… but feel free to remind me just how much.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Jack looked down at Ianto reclining drowsily upon the dark red pillows, he felt a surge of something that he knew went far deeper than lust. If it hadn’t been for Tosh, he would probably have lost Ianto for good and that thought terrified him. Sitting on the end of the bed he paused awhile to admire his lover’s lean, well proportioned body stretched out naked before him, long, slim limbs sprawled out upon the sheets. From the ticklish soles of his feet to the sinfully cute nose, he adored every inch of this man. 

Despite knowing that he should leave him be and let him sleep, he wanted more than anything to make love to Ianto. There was a primal need to reinforce the bonds between them, which neither man would deny had been stretched to breaking point. Jack couldn’t afford to waste any more time, he had to get this right, just in case anything stole Ianto away before he had the chance. He got to his knees and then crawled carefully up the bed until he was positioned above Ianto’s body, his hands to either side of his shoulders and his face close enough that a stray drip of water fell from his hair to land on Ianto’s nose. 

“Ianto?” Jack tried hard not to sound too needy.

“Jack?” Ianto looked up through his lashes into Jack’s eyes, hearing the need dripping from his voice more tangibly than the water from his freshly washed hair.

“Just how tired would you say you are?” 

Ianto smiled and, without saying a word, he slowly raised his left knee and gently brushed it against Jack’s groin. Then raising an eyebrow, he smirked.

“Hmm… not sure. But it feels like parts of you are beginning to wake up.”

“It’s OK. I can take care of that myself.” Jack shrugged; although the feeling of Ianto’s warm skin against his cock sent a tingle through his body.

“I think we need it ... more than sleep right now.” Ianto was beyond tired, but he wanted more than a cuddle before going to sleep. He needed Jack to possess him to the exclusion of all bad thoughts that could trigger nightmares. He wanted to fall asleep with fresh memories of Jack around him and inside him.

“I don’t want to hurt you…” Jack leaned down and rubbed his nose along Ianto’s cheek before planting a chaste kiss on his brow.

“My leg?” 

“Any part of you, but the leg, yes.” Jack ran his fingers lightly over the dressing. “I don’t want to put any pressure on this…”

“I’m sure we can find a way … I know you can be innovative when you’re in the mood …” Ianto reached out to curl his hand about the back of Jack’s head, drawing him down until their mouths collided in a kiss that was drenched in passion and unbridled lust.

“… sure about this?” the words exhaled in breathy gasps as Jack broke away for air.

Ianto grasped Jack’s wrist impatiently and dragged his hand down until its fingers lingered against his own obvious erection. 

“What do you think?” Ianto whispered. The further dilation of Jack’s pupils gave him his answer.

Jack reluctantly pulled away from Ianto and grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and dragged it down to the left of Ianto’s body. 

“Roll over onto your side.” Jack helped Ianto move over onto his left-hand side and made sure the pillow was close to his body. “Bend your knees and then rest your leg on here, bend it a little more if you can … good.” 

Placing a hand behind the knee, Jack helped to position Ianto’s injured leg on the pillow, supporting it carefully and then manoeuvred Ianto until his shoulders were facing downwards into the mattress. Sliding his hands across the expanse of Ianto’s back, he took care to avoid the neat dressing that he’d replaced just beneath the ribs. He traced fingertips over old scars and kissed each and every one of them. Ianto relaxed into the soft mattress and pillows, enjoying the attentive caresses. 

Reaching across Ianto and opening the drawer of the nightstand, Jack paused to kiss his lover again, teasing open Ianto’s lips and raiding his mouth with his tongue. Although he knew he had to be gentle, the desire burning through his veins had other ideas. From the enthusiastic way in which the kiss was returned, he could tell that Ianto was just as aroused as he was.

“OK with this?” he mumbled into Ianto’s ear, rubbing his cheek into the soft, damp curls of hair.

Ianto reached an arm back to pull Jack closer to him in response. 

“Yes… oh yes.”

Moulding his body to his lover’s back, Jack hugged him tightly.

“Try not to move… let me do all the work… and if it hurts-”

“Shut up … no more talking …”

Jack took that as his cue and lavished attention on Ianto’s body. Lips, teeth and tongue nibbled and licked, whilst his hands roamed freely, down the shoulder blades, along the lean flanks and over the hips, revisiting a much-loved landscape of smooth skin over firm muscle: massaging, caressing and stroking. Well-slicked fingers sliding in and out slowly, little by little, opened and relaxed Ianto’s body for him. An arm beneath Ianto’s body grasping him about the waist held him still, the restrained squirming intensifying the stimulation until Jack could see Ianto gripping hold of the pillow beneath his head, white-knuckled and biting it to keep from screaming out for more. 

As soon as he was sure that he could do no more to ready his lover, Jack positioned himself with infinite care and slowly nudged his way into Ianto’s body, one hand steadying hips to stop them thrusting back, the other splayed out on his chest, feeling the ridiculously fast beating of his heart … easing in gradually, the sensations overwhelmed Jack and he couldn’t hold back any longer and pushed in, penetrating as deeply as he could from this angle… regaining control, panting heavily, he stayed in place, despite the urge to thrust fast and hard… reaching around he grasped hold of Ianto’s right hand to place it around his neglected cock, smiling as he felt it twitch at the contact…

The touch of warm skin was all it took for Ianto’s cock to surge upwards into Jack’s large, warm hand that took charge of his own, wrapping fingers tightly around as he stroked, rubbing against the soft cotton, the passive resistance of the pillow like another body between his legs… 

The exquisite groans he elicited from Ianto were all it took for his body to take over, purposefully moving in and out, sliding backward and forward, rocking into that gorgeous arse, he concentrated on matching the rhythm of his thrusts with the pace with which he pumped Ianto’s cock… 

As Jack moved faster, the dual sensations of being fucked into the mattress and his own cock sliding up and down in his lover’s firm grip became almost unbearably intense … a thumb rubbed over the head of his cock and Ianto was gone, shuddering into his orgasm … then awareness of arms around him, almost squeezing the breath out of him as he felt Jack thrust harder and deeper until he reached his own climax … as Jack’s grip slackened off, waves of pleasure flooded over them both ... this time pulling them under in a rush of warmth and blissful sensations that short-circuited any other thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, as Jack lay curled around Ianto protectively, resting his head on his chest, he listened to the heart again, beating slower now … but there, alive, so alive. He pressed a kiss to Ianto’s lips, lightly so as not to wake him. He had wanted to wait until he was sure Ianto was asleep before allowing himself to drift off. As he watched the steady rise and fall of Ianto’s chest, he heard the music from the neighbour’s house seep in through the walls. The women in the house next door tended to turn up their stereo whenever Jack stayed over, something that never failed to embarrass Ianto. Their lovemaking had been so noisy that if there had been any sound from next door neither of them would have heard it, but now in the calm and dark, the melody broke through, haunting and eerie. Jack listened carefully, frowning as he strained to catch the lyrics and then as the words filtered through he smiled and held onto Ianto even tighter than before. 

_Strange how_  
my heart beats  
to find myself upon your shore.  
Strange how  
I still feel  
my loss of comfort gone before. 

_Cool waves wash over_  
and drift away with dreams of youth  
so time is stolen  
I cannot hold you long enough. 

_And so_  
this is where I should be now  
Days and nights falling by 

_Days and nights falling by me._  
I know  
of a dream I should be holding  
days and nights falling by  
Days and nights falling by me. 

_Soft blue horizons_  
reach far into my childhood days  
as you are rising  
to bring me my forgotten ways. 

_Strange how I falter_  
to find I'm standing in deep water  
strange how  
my heart beats  
to find I'm standing on your shore. 

On Your Shore (Watermark)  
written by: Enya/Roma Ryan (reproduced without permission)


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. Thank you for following this - I have put a lot of work into this re-edit and as far as I am concerned this is a far better version than the original I posted on LJ and then re-posted on fanficnet. It's also easier to download!
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Epilogue**

It wasn’t until several days later that Jack eventually managed to talk to Ianto about the issue that had been hovering in the background unspoken. There just hadn’t been the opportunity to indulge in long, heartfelt discussions; the whole team had been run off their feet in the days following Patrick’s expulsion from the Hub.

The Rift had been predictably unsettled, but luckily the disturbances were limited to a slightly increased level of weevil activity, which kept Jack occupied, especially as Ianto wasn’t fit to be chasing weevils, literally or metaphorically, as Owen had told him in no uncertain terms. Ianto had spent long hours with Tosh working on the mainframe, changing access codes, flushing the systems for bugs and spyware. Their additional searches on CCTV footage failed to give them many further clues as to Patrick’s activities. He’d been quite meticulous in his disabling of security systems as he’d pursued his prey. 

However, they did manage to find out that he’d been staying in Jolyons Hotel on Bute Crescent, from which he’d been able to spy on all their comings and goings. A phone call had established that the bill had been paid up front and in cash, and there were no personal belongings left in the room which he’d stayed in. Yet another dead end, which infuriated Jack. 

Gwen had been out and about liaising with the local police in both Cardiff and in Barry. Any hopes of finding evidence in the warehouse where Tosh had been taken had been dashed when it proved to be completely gutted by fire. Meanwhile, Owen had set about determining the exact formulation of the drug that Patrick had injected into Ianto; he wanted to ensure that he could counter any long-term side effects that might crop up. That was after he’d incinerated an ancient, rotting arthropod and totally reorganised his medical area. 

All the while, Jack watched his team doing what they did best and brooded in his office, turning over the events in his mind and wondering where it had all gone so disastrously wrong. He hadn’t even managed to stay over at Ianto’s house again since that first night, those damn weevils just loved to cause mayhem between midnight and dawn. 

Despite protestations that he could deal with the supply run to Flat Holm single-handed, Jack had insisted on accompanying Ianto. Apart from it providing an opportunity to talk to him on his own, with far less risk of interruption, he still felt uneasy if the Welshman was out of the Hub or out of his sight for longer than an hour or two. Although the others all accepted that Patrick had been sucked into the Rift, never to be seen again, Jack suspected that hell would spit him out sooner or later and he wanted to be ready.

As they stood together in companionable silence, watching the shoreline get further away, it was hard not to think back over the events of the recent past. Jack felt a shudder from Ianto as a black-hulled yacht tacked across their path, its mast leaning over perilously close to the waves, its unfurled sails slapping loudly in the wind. Jack put his arm around Ianto’s shoulders and was pleased that he put up no resistance, accepting the gesture for what it was. There was no need to mention the memories or the unspoken fears, the silent comfort making words redundant.

As they moved out along the coast, looking back and out to the west, Jack nodded in the direction of Barry.

“Tosh isn’t going to let it drop that the police found no trace of occupation of that warehouse.”

“I know – she’s convinced that if she could have an afternoon there with every conceivable scanning device at Torchwood’s disposal that she will uncover something.”

“I take it she’s been working on you, too?”

“Oh yes, and Owen and Gwen. If she thought she could strap a camera on Myfanwy, we’d have pterano-cam out there as well.”

Jack laughed as he remembered his first sight of the pteranodon flying around in a warehouse. Despite the recent discovery that Patrick had opened the Rift to bring her through as bait, to be used by Ianto to trap him, he couldn’t hold it against the prehistoric creature – especially as she had effectively brought them together. 

“Ianto, what Patrick said about me travelling again – that’s only one possible future. By coming back, he changed that timeline anyway.” Jack had been troubled by that revelation and had no reason to suspect the fellow Time Agent of lying.

“I know, it’s alright, Jack.” Ianto sighed, he had seen Jack brooding and wondered what it had been about. “I know that you … you’re not obliged to stay here. If you wanted to travel again-”

“Here, take this.” Jack fished a small roll of leather from his pocket and handed it over to Ianto.

“What is it?” Ianto turned it in his hands and found that it had fastenings on the side like those on Jack’s wrist strap. “Is this the tool kit that Emily and Alice took from him?”

“Yes and before you ask, no, I haven’t used it.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.” Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to use it?”

“I want that to be your choice. I’m letting you decide what’s done with it. If you want, you can throw it over the side into the sea.”

Ianto looked from the worn, leather bound tool kit to Jack and back again. He was speechless. Jack was giving him the power to determine whether he remained stranded on Earth in the 21st Century or had the means to travel wherever and whenever he wanted. The honesty and nervousness he saw reflected in Jack’s eyes touched him and his heart went out to this man.

“No, that’s probably not a good idea. Who knows who could dredge it up … I’ll … I’ll look after it for you. Put it in the vaults … keep it safe. That way, if you ever… you know… it’ll be there.” Ianto smiled the tight-lipped smile he gave when he didn’t want to give away his feelings, nodded at Jack and slipped the seemingly innocuous item into his own pocket.

The implicit trust that Jack had placed in Ianto was repaid by that gesture, allowing both men to move on. Ianto knew that Jack wouldn’t secretly repair his wrist strap and disappear without warning and Jack knew that Ianto would understand if he did have to go. They moved closer together and grabbed hold of one another in a breathtaking hug that healed over any remaining rifts that had been torn in their relationship. 

Stealing a glance at his lover’s face, Jack was pleased to see that colour had returned to his cheeks and he’d lost that haunted look. He would be forever grateful that he’d been forgiven for almost sacrificing Ianto rather than tell Patrick anything about the Doctor. 

Ianto reached a hand out to Jack’s forehead, noticing the worry lines creasing his face. He had a good idea what was causing them and sighed. He thought they’d exorcised that demon, but apparently not.

“I told you before, I understand. Really, please don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“I let that bastard twist a knife in your leg and if it hadn’t been for the others coming to your rescue, you’d probably be dead now. How am I not meant to blame myself for that?”

“Jack – if you’d like to cast your mind back a bit, there was a time when I would have sacrificed the lot of you for someone I loved who wasn’t there any more.”

“That was different, it’s not as if you were emotionally involved with me when that happened–”

“I was though… couldn’t help it.” 

“What? Even then?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want to have those feelings for you. Not when … not then. I blame those bloody pheromones, from the moment I met you.” 

“Really?”

“Yep, I didn’t even want to like you … I know that much …”

“Was it the weevil fighting that did it or the coat?”

“The coat.” 

“Come here, you.”

“Why?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I loved you?”

“There are stranger things you’ve told me in the past.” Ianto chuckled as he was grabbed tightly about the waist and trapped between the railing and Jack’s body.

“So, then – we still on for that game of naked hide and seek? You promised me you would if you survived being locked up in that vault. Remember? I’ll even let you start with a full suit on.”

“With undershirt and waistcoat?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack helped Ianto carry in the boxes of special requisitions he’d purchased for a few of the residents. Those from out of their time appreciated the familiar items Ianto could source to make them feel less stranded. It could be something simple like providing custard cream biscuits for Jules, who’d told Helen he remembered them from his childhood, to a DVD box set of the entire series of Dallas for Alice, who’d been taken before the shock revelation of who had shot JR – in her more lucid moments she would repeatedly ask who did it. It was only after he brought in a prayer mat for Saeed, along with a compass, that the poor man had finally stopped lamenting and found some peace of mind. This time his box of goodies included a complete set of the Harry Potter novels for Caroline, who’d only got as far as The Prisoner of Azkaban before she’d been taken by the Rift. Ianto attended to the little details that made the lives of those trapped in their own minds just that bit more bearable.

It was doubtful that anyone else would ever be able to do the job as well. Jack had discussed ways of getting Gwen involved. After all, she had the right type of compassionate personality and it probably did make sense if someone else knew about the set up, just in case. However, as Ianto astutely pointed out, he’d have to devise a way of her ‘discovering’ Flat Holm for herself. They had to set her up so that she’d end up begging Jack to be involved, because if he told her about it up front, she’d condemn him as a monster and refuse to have anything to do with it. Not for the first time did Jack wonder how on earth Ianto had become so wise.

As Helen approached him, Jack was leaning on the wall at the far end of the main communal area, watching from a discrete distance as Ianto opened the cage to access the TV. He was apparently adjusting the picture quality.

“He’s still going to be looking after us I hope?” whispered Helen anxiously.

“As long as I can look after him.”

“You can’t keep your eyes off him today, Captain. What is it? Did you nearly lose him?”

“You could say that.”

“Come on, make yourself useful and help me collect the empties.”

“My pleasure.” Jack pushed away from the wall and took the tray Helen handed to him as she walked on ahead to pick up the mugs and plates left on tables and under chairs.

They made their way slowly around the open area of the facility, Jack greeting those who recognised him from before. By the time they reached the back of the room, he saw an old man sitting there by himself. He couldn’t remember who he was. Perhaps he was one of those whose identities they’d never discovered, although they usually assigned them a name of some sort.

“Who’s that again?” Jack whispered to Helen. “In the corner.”

“The old man with the beard? Ianto brought him in when you were away. Refused to look at anyone for the first few months, curled up whenever anyone came near him, like a hedgehog, almost as prickly to be honest. Never says a word. Won’t tell us his name, we call him Gandalf, all that long, white hair and the beard. Can hardly see his face, even now.”

Jack took a few steps closer to the hunched figure who was staring at the small coffee table in front of his chair. That’s when he noticed that there was a magnetic travel chess set on the table, several small pieces in various positions on the board as if a game was being played. Yet the old man was alone.

“Who does he play with?” Jack frowned, having developed an aversion to the game of chess, although he could see how board games would bide away the time for those stranded here.

“Nobody. He turns the board around between each move. Takes him forever to finish a game. Once somebody offered to play with him and he turned quite nasty, beat the poor sod back with his walking stick. Since then the others keep clear of him.”

Jack approached closer still, both intrigued and unnerved. He watched as the old man reached out a hand to pluck one of the pawns from its square and move it forward. The skin on the back of the hand was wrinkled and blemished with brown liver spots. The arthritic fingers were gnarled like the roots of an old tree and Jack figured that the tarnished silver rings must have been there awhile, unable to be dislodged past swollen knuckles. A step closer revealed that the silver was wrought in ornate Celtic knotwork. Jack drew in a sharp breath as he recognised where he’d seen those rings before. 

That’s when the old man raised his head to look at Jack. The face framed with white hair made the simple black eye patch look all the more sinister. The scar running across his face from temple to cheek was dark red against his papery thin skin. He moistened his cracked lips with the tip of his tongue and let them stretch into a lazy, mirthless smile before parting to speak the first words that anyone at Flat Holm had ever heard him say:

“Ah, now you recognise me, Jack. Give my regards to Ianto, won’t you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**THE END**


End file.
